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LETTERS OF
HORACE WALPOLE
MBS. PAGET TOYNBEE
IX
HENRY FROWDE, M.A.
I'UBI.ISHEn TO THE UKIVEB3ITY OF OXFORD
LONDON^ EDINBUHGH
NEW YORK
r* ^v
A-
>
,/frrrrrr / / /r//lt>-r/'.-■
-W.,/J.^^ t^-g^ci^-^yS'i-J'-
THE LETTERS
OF
HORACE WALPOLE
FOURTH EARL OF ORFORD
CHRONOLOGICALLY ARRANGED
AND EDITED WITH NOTES AND INDICES
BY
MRS. PAGET TOYNBEE
IN SIXTEEN VOLUMES
WITH POETEAITS AND FACSIMILES
VOL. IX: 1774—1776
OXFORD
AT THE CLARENDON PRESS
MCMIV
T
A. \%^'i^\
OXFORD
PRINTED AT THE CLARENDON PRESS
BY HORACE HART, M.A.
PRINTER TO THE UNIVERSITY
CONTENTS OF VOL. IX
PAGES
List of Portraits vi
List of Letters in Volume IX vii-xii
Letters 1540-1742 1-454
as
LIST OF PORTRAITS
Horace Walpole Frontispiece
From plaque in Battersea enamel in South Kensington
Museum.
Facsimile of Letter of Horace Walpole to
Madame du Dbffand . . . . To face p. 130
Rev. William Mason „ 178
From painting by Sir Joshua Reynolds in possession oS
Pembroke College, Cambridge.
Elizabeth Berkeley, Baroness Craven . „ 331
From painting by G, Eomney in National Portrait
Gallery.
Robert Clive, first Baron Clive ... „ 400
From painting by N. Dance in National Portrait Gallery.
LIST OF LETTERS IN VOL. IX
1774.
1540
May 28, 1774 . .
1541
June 8, 1774 . .
1542
June 14, 1774. .
1543t June 19, 1774. .
1544
June 23, 1774. .
1545
July 10, 1774 .
1546
July 19, 1774 . .
1547
July 21, 1774 . .
1548
July 30, 1774 .
1549
Aug. 3, 1774 .
1550
Aug. 10, 1774.
1551
Aug. 11, 1774.
1552
Aug. 15, 1774.
1553
Aug. 18, 1774. .
1554
Aug. 23,1774.
1555
Aug. 23, 1774.
1556
Sept. 2, 1774 .
1557
Sept. 7, 1774 .
1558
Sept. 14, 1774.
1559
Sept. 16, 1774.
1560t Sept. 17, 1774.
1561t Sept. 18,1774.
1562
Sept. 26, 1774.
1563
Sept. 27, 1774.
1564
Sept. 28, 1774.
1565
Oct. 6, 1774 .
1566
Oct. 11, 1774 .
1567
[Oct. 1774] .
1568
Oct. 15, 1774 .
1569
Oct. 16, 1774 .
1570
Oct. 22, 1774 .
1571
Oct. 27, 1774 .
1572
Oct. 29, 1774 .
1573
Nov. 7, 1774 .
J, XT —
;
Rev. William Cole .
Sir Horace Mann
Countess of Upper Ossory
Sir William Hamilton.
Hon. Heniy Seymour Conway
Sir Horace Mann
Rev. William Mason .
Rev. William Cole .
Countess of Upper Ossory
Sir Horace Mann
George Augustus Selwyn
Countess of Upper Ossory
Rev. William Cole .
Hon. Henry Seymour Conway
Rev. William Mason .
Countess of Upper Ossory
Sir Horace Mann
Hon. Henry Seymour Conway
Countess of Upper Ossory
Rev. William Mason .
John Fenn.
Sir Horace Mann.
John Craufurd ....
Hon. Henry Seymour Conway
Hon. Henry Seymour Conway
Sir Horace Mann
Rev. William Cole .
Rev. William Mason .
Countess of Upper Ossory .
Hon. Henry Seymour Conway
Sir Horace Mann
Countess of Upper Ossory .
Hon. Heni-y SeymourConway
Countess of Ailesbury .
1434
1435
1437
1439
1440
1441
1438
1442
1443
1444
1445
1446
1447
1448
1449
1450
1451
1452
1453
1455
1456
1457
1458
1459
1454
1460
1461
1462
1463
1464
1465
■f- Now printed for the first time.
Vlll
List of Letters
T
1574
Nov. 11, 1774.
1575
Nov. 11, 1774.
1576
Nov. 11, 1774 .
1577
Nov. 12, 1774.
1578
Nov. 14, 1774 .
1579
Nov. 23, 1774.
1580
Nov. 24, 1774.
1581
Nov. 27, 1774.
1582
Dec. 15, 1774 .
1583t
Dec. 23, 1774 .
1584
Deo. 26, 1774 .
1585
[Dec. 1774] .
1586t
Ce 26 D(5c. 1774
1587
Dec. 31, 1774 .
Sir Horace Mann
Earl of Straffoi-d ....
Isaac Beed
Hon. HenrySeymourConway
Countess of Upper Ossory .
Countess of Upper Oasory
Sir Horace Mann
Hon. Henry Seymour Conway
Hon . Henry Seymour Conway
Sir Horace Mann.
Hon. Henry Seymour Conway
George Augustus Selwyn.
Marquise du Deffand.
Hon. Henry Seymour Conway
1466
1467
2662
1468
1469
1470
1471
1472
1478
1474
1475
1775.
1588 Jan. 1, 1775 . .
Countess of Upper Ossory .
1476
1589 Jan. 2, 1775 . .
John Craufurd ....
1477
1590t Ce 4 Janv. 1775 .
Marquise du Deffand.
1591 Jan. 9, 1775 . .
Eev. William Cole .
1478
1592 Jan. 9, 1775 . .
Sir Horace Mann
1479
1593 Jan. 12, 1775 . .
Countess of Upper Ossory
1480
1594t Jan. 12, 1775 . .
Earl of Hardwicke.
1595t Ce 13 Janv. 1775 .
Marquise du Deffand.
1596 Jan. 15, 1775 . .
Hon. Henry Seymour Conway
and Countess of Ailesbury.
1481
1597 Jan. 15, 1775 . .
Countess of Upper Ossory
1482
1598 Jan. 17, 1776. .
Duke of Gloucester .
1483
1599t Ce 19 Janv. 1775 .
Marquise du Deffand.
1600 Jan. 21, 1775 . .
Countess of Upper Ossory
1484
' .1488
1601 Jan. 22, 1775 . .
Hon. HenrySeymourConway
1485
1602 Jan. 24, 1775 . .
Countess of Upper Ossory
1486
1603 Jan. 25, 1775 . .
Sir Horace Mann
1487
1604t Ce 27 Janv. 1775 .
Marquise du Deffand.
1605t Ce 31 Janv. 1775 .
Marquise du Deffand.
1606 Feb. 1, 1775 . .
Countess of Upper Ossory .
1489
1607 Feb. 15, 1775 . .
Sir Horace Mann
1490
1608 Feb. 18, 1775 . .
Kev. William Mason
1491
1609 Feb. 28, 1775 . .
Kev. William Mason
1492
1610 March 7, 1775 .
Eev. William Mason
1493
t Now printed for the first time.
List of Letters
IX
T
C
1611
March 20, 1775 .
Sir Horace Mann
. 1494
1612
April 3, 1775 . .
Rev. William Mason
. 1495
1613
April 11, 1776 .
Rev. William Cole .
. 1496
1614
April 14, 1775 .
Rev. William Mason
. 1497
1615
April 17, 1775 .
Sir Horace Mann
1498
■ 11499
1616
April 25, 1775 .
Rev. William Cole .
. 1500
1617
May 7, 1775 . .
Sir Horace Mann
. 1501
1618
May 7, 1775 . .
Rev. William Mason
. 1502
1619
May 17, 1775 . .
Sir Horace Mann
. 1503
1620
May 27, 1776 . .
Rev. William Mason
. 1504
1621
June 5, 1775 . .
Sir Horace Mann
. 1505
1622
June 5, 1775 .
Rev. William Cole .
. 1506
1623
June 12 [1775] .
Rev. William Mason
. 1436
1624
June 14, 1775
Viscount Nuneham .
. 1507
1625
June 23, 1775
Countess of Upper Ossor
r . 1508
1626
July 6, 1775 . .
Sir Horace Mann
. 1509
1627
July 7, 1775 . .
Countess of Upper Ossor
y . 1510
1628
July 9, 1775 . .
Hon. Henry Seymour Cor
iway 1511
1629
July 10, 1775. .
Rev. William Mason
. 1512
1630
July 18, 1775 . .
Viscount Nuneham .
. 1513
1631
July 23, 1775 . .
Countess of Upper Ossor
f . 1514
1682
Aug. 3, 1775 . .
Countess of Upper Ossor
y . 1515
1633
Aug. 3, 1775 . .
Sir Horace Mann
. 1516
1634
Aug. 7, 1775 . .
Rev. William Mason
. 1517
1635
Aug. 9, 1775 . .
Hon. Henry Seymour Con
way 1518
1636
Aug. 10, 1775
Countess of Upper Ossor
ri6i9
' ■ 11520
1637
Aug. 17, 1775
Countess of Ailesbury
. . 1521
1638
Aug. 18, 1775
Countess of Upper Ossor
Y . 1522
1639
Aug. 20, 1775
Countess of Ailesbury
, 1523
1640
Aug. 23 [1775] .
Countess of Upper Ossor
y . 1524
1641
Sept. 6, 1775 . .
Rev. William Mason
. 1525
1642
Sept. 7, 1775 . .
Sir Horace Mann
. 1626
1643
Sept. 8, 1776 . .
Hon. Henry SeymourCor
iway 1527
1644
[Sept. 1775] . .
Countess of Upper Ossor
Y . 1531
1646
Sept. 12, 1775 .
Countess of Upper Ossor;
ri528
■ 11529
1646
Sept. 16, 1775 .
George Augustus Selwyr
L . 1530
1647
Oct. 3, 1775 . .
Countess of Upper Ossor
y . 1532
1648
Oct. 6, 1775 . .
Hon. Henry SeymourCor
way 1533
1649
Oct. 10, 1775 . .
Sir Horace Mann
. . 1584
1650
Oct. 17, 1775 . .
Countess of Upper Ossor
y . 1535
List of Letters
T
1651
Oct. 21, 1775 . . .
Countess of Upper Ossorj
r . 1536
1652
Oct. 23, 1775 . . .
Sir Horace Mann
. 1537
1653
Oct. 25, 1775 . . .
Rev. William Mason
. 1538
1654
Oct. 27, 1775 . . .
Rev. William Mason
. 1539
1655
Oct. 27, 1775 . .
Duke of Richmond .
. 1540
1656
Oct. 28, 1775 . . .
Sir Horace Mann
. 1541
1657
Not. 9, 1775 . . .
Countess of Upper Ossorj
r . 1542
1658
Nov. 14, 1775. . .
Sir Horace Mann
. 1543
1659
Nov. 18, 1775 . .
Countess of Upper Ossorj
r . 1544
1660
Nov. 23, 1775 . .
Countess of Upper Ossorj
r . 1545
1661
Nov. 27, 1775. .
Rev. William Mason
. 1546
1662
Dec. 4, 1775 .
Countess of Upper Ossorj
r . 1547
1663
Dec. 8, 1775 . .
Sir Horace Mann
. 1548
1664
Dec. 10, 1775. .
Rev. William Cole .
. 1549
1665
Dec. 11, 1775. .
Countess of Ailesbury .
. 1550
1666
Dec. 14, 1775. .
Rev. William Cole .
. 1551
1667t
Dec. 14, 1775 . .
Rev. Thomas Percy.
1668
Dec. 17, 1775 . .
Sir Horace Mann
. 1552
1669
Dec. 19, 1775. .
Thomas Astle
. 1553
1670
Dec. 20, 1775 . .
Countess of Upper Ossor;
f . 1554
1671
Dec. 21, 1775. .
Rev. William Mason
. 1555
1672
Dec. 25, 1775. .
John Robinson.
1673
Dec. 26, 1775. .
Sir Horace Mann
. 1556
1674
Dec. 27, 1775 . .
Countess of Upper Ossor
Y . 1557
1675+
Dec. 1775 . .
Sir Horace Mann.
1776.
1676
Jan. 26, 1776 . .
Rev. William Cole .
. 1558
1677
Jan. 28, 1776 . .
Sir Horace Mann
. 1559
1678
[Feb. 1776] . .
Edward Gibbon .
. 1560
1679
Feb. 6 [1776] . .
Kev. William Mason
. 1561
1680
Feb. 14, 1776. .
Edward Gibbon .
. 1562
1681
Feb. 15, 1776. .
Sir Horace Mann
. 1563
1682
Feb. 18, 1776 . .
Rev. William Mason
. 1564
1683
Feb. 29, 1776 . .
Rev. William Mason
. 1565
1684
March 1, 1776 .
Rev. William Cole .
. . 1566
1685
March 11, 1776 .
Rev. William Mason
. 1567
1686
March 22, 1776 .
Sir Horace Mann
. . 1568
1687
April 4, 1776 . .
Dr. Gem
. . 1569
1688
April 8, 1776 . .
Rev. William Mason
. . 1570
1689
[April 1776] . .
f Now prin
Rev. William Mason
ted for the first time.
. . 1571
List of Letters
XI
C
1690
April 16, 1776 .
Rev. William Cole .
. 1572
1691
April 17, 1776 .
Sir Horace Mann
. 1573
1692
April 20, 1776 .
Rev. William Mason
. 1574
1693
April 21, 1776 .
Rev. William Mason
. 1575
1694
April 23, 1776 .
Rev. William Mason
. 1576
1695
April 24, 1776 .
Sir Horace Maun
. 1577
1696
May 4, 1776 . .
Rev. William Mason
. 1579
1697
May 14, 1776 . .
Rev. William Mason
. 1580
1698
May 17, 1776 . .
Sir Horace Mann
. 1581
1699
May 20, 1776 . .
Rev. William Mason
. 1582
1700
May 27, 1776 . .
Sir Horace Mann
. 1583
1701
[May 1776] . .
Viscount Nuneham .
. 1584
1702
June 1, 1776 . .
Rev. William Cole .
. 1585
1703
June 5, 1776 .
Sir Horace Mann
. 1586
1704
June 11, 1776 .
Rev. William Cole .
. 1587
1705
June 20, 1776
Countess of Upper Osson
T . 1588
1706
Ce 23 Juiu 1776 .
Count Schuwalof.
1707
June 25, 1776
Countess of Upper Ossorj
r . 1589
1708
June 30, 1776
Hon. Henry Seymour Con
way 1590
1709
July 10, 1776 . .
Countess of Upper Ossor
y . 1591
1710
July 13, 1776 . .
Countess of Upper Ossor
y . 1592
1711
July 16, 1776 . .
Sir Horace Mann
. . 1593
1712
July 17, 1776 . .
Countess of Upper Ossor
Y . 1594
1713
July 23, 1776. .
Rev. William Cole .
. 1595
1714
July 24, 1776 . .
Eev. William Cole .
. 1596
1715
Aug. 4, 1776 . .
Countess of Upper Ossor
y . 1597
1716
Aug. 11, 1776 .
Sir Horace Mann
. . 1598
1717
Aug. 16, 1776
Countess of Upper Ossor
y . 1599
1718
Aug. 19, 1776
Rev. William Cole .
. . 1600
1719
Aug. 20, 1776
Sir Horace Mann
. . 1601
1720
Aug. 22, 1776
Countess of Upper Oasor
y . 1602
1721
Sept. 9, 1776 . .
Rev. William Cole .
. 1603
1722
Sept. 17, 1776
Rev. William Mason
. 1604
1723
Sept. 20, 1776 .
Sir Horace Mann
. . 1605
1724
Sept. 22, 1776 .
Countess of Upper Ossor
y . 1606
1725
Oct. 8, 1776 . .
Eev. William Mason
. 1607
1726
Oct. 9, 1776 . .
Countess of Upper Ossor
y . 1608
1727
Oct. 13, 1776 . .
Sir Horace Mann
. 1609
1728
Oct. 13, 1776 . .
Countess of Upper Ossorj
' . 1610
1729
Thursday, [Oct.] 31
[1776]
Hon. Henry Seymour Con
way 1611
1730
Nov. 1, 1776 . .
Sir Horace Mann
. 1612
1731
Not. 2, 1776 . .
Earl of Strafford .
. 1613
Xll
List of Letters
C
1782
[Nov. 1776] . .
. Eev. William Mason Part of 1604
1733
Not. 13, 1776. .
Countess of Upper Ossory
. 1614
1734
Nov. 24,1776. .
Sir Horace Mann
. 1615
1735
Dec. 1, 1776 . .
Sir Horace Mann
. 1616
1736
Dec. 8, 1776 . .
Countess of Upper Ossory
. 1617
1737
Dec. 9, 1776 . .
George Allan.
1738
Dec. 9, 1776 . .
Rev. William Cole .
1618
1739
Deo. 17, 1776. .
Countess of Upper Ossory
1619
1740
Dec. 20, 1776 . .
Sir Horace Mann
1620
1741
Dec. 23, 1776. .
Countess of Upper Ossory
. 1621
1742t [1776] . . .
Comtesse de Viry.
+ Now printed for the first time.
THE LETTERS
HORACE WALPOLE
1540. To THE Eev. William Cole.
strawberry Hill, May 28, 1774.
Nothing will be more agreeable to me, dear Sir, than
a visit from you in July. I will try and persuade Mr.
Granger to meet you ; and if you had any such thing
as summer in the fens, I would desire you to bring a bag
with you. We are almost freezing here in the midst of
beautiful verdure, with a profusion of blossoms and flowers :
but I keep good fires, and seem to feel warm weather
while I look through the window, for the way to enstire
summer in England is to have it framed and glazed in
a comfortable room.
I shall be still more glad to hear you are settled in your
living. Bumham ^ is almost in my neighbourhood, and its
being in that of Eton and Windsor will more than console
you, I hope, for leaving Ely and Cambridge. Pray let me
know the moment you are certain. It would now be
a disappointment to me as well as you. You shall be
inaugurated in my chapel, which is much more venerable
than your parish church, and has the genuine air of
antiquity. I bought very little at poor Mr. Bateman's.
His nephew disposed of little that was worth house-room,
and yet pulled the whole to pieces.
Lettbb 1540, — I Cole succeeded vicar of Bnmham in Buckingham-
his half-brother, Dr. Apthorpe, as shire in June 1774.
WALPOLE. IX
2 To tie Bev. William Cole [i774
Mr. Pennant' has published a new tour to Scotland
and the Hebrides, and, though he has endeavoured to paint
their dismal isles and rocks in glowing colours, they will
not be satisfied, for he seems no bigot about Ossian, at
least in some passages, and is free in others, which their
intolerating spirit will resent. I cannot say the book is
very entertaining to me, as it is more a book of rates than
of antiquities. The most amusing part was communicated
to him by Mr. Banks, who found whole islands that bear
nothing but columns, as other places do grass and barley.
I There is a beautiful cave called Fingal's, which proves that
I nature loves Gothic architecture.
Mr. Pennant has given a new edition of his former tour
with more cuts. Among others is the vulgar head called
the Countess of Desmond. I told him I had discovered,
and proved past contradiction, that it is Rembrandt's
mother ; he owned it, and said he would correct it by
a note— but he has not. This is a brave way of being an
antiquary ; as if there could be any merit in giving for
genuine what one knows is spurious. He is, indeed,
a superficial man, and knows little of history or antiquity
— but he has a violent rage for being an author. He set
out with ornithology, and a little natural history, and picks
up his knowledge as he rides. I have a stUl lower idea
of Mr, Gough ; for Mr. Pennant, at least, is veiy civiL The
other is a hog. Mr. Penn ', another smatterer in antiquity,
but a very good sort of man, told me Mr. Gough desired to
be introduced to me — but as he has been such a bear to you,
he shall not come. The Society of Antiquaries put me in
mind of what the old Lord Pembroke said to Anstis the
2 Thomas Pennant (1726-1798). In 1787. He was the first editor
He visited Scotland in 1769 and of the Paston Letters. A series of
1772, and published accounts of both letters addressed to him by Walpole
tonrs. is printed for the first time in the
s John Fenn (1739-1794), knighted present edition.
1774] To the Bev. William Cole 3
herald : ' Thou silly fellow, thou dost not know thy own
silly business.' If they went beyond taste by poking into j
barbarous ages when there was no taste, one could forgive i
them — but they catch at the first ugly thing they see, and
take it for old, because it is new to them, and then usher it
pompously into the world as if they had made a discovery,
though they have not yet cleared up a single point that is of
the least importance, or that tends to settle any obscure
passage in history.
I will not condole with you on having had the gout,
since you find it has removed other complaints. Besides,
as it begins late, you are never likely to have it severely.
I shall be in terrors in two or three months, having had the
four last fits periodically and biennially. Indeed, the two
last were so long and severe, that my remaining and
shattered strength could ill support such.
I must repeat how glad I shall be to have you at Burn-
ham. When people grow old, as you and I do, they should \
get together. Others do not care for us, but we seem wiser
to one another by finding fault with them — not that I am
apt to dislike young folks, whom I think everything be-
comes ; but it is a kind of self-defence to live in a body.
I dare to say that monks never find out that they grow old I
fools. Their age gives them authority, and nobody con-
tradicts them. In the world, one cannot help perceiving!
one is out of fashion. Women play at cards with women 1
of their own standing, and censure others between the deals,
and thence conclude themselves Gamaliels. I, who see
many young men with better parts than myself, submit
with a good grace, or retreat hither to my castle, where
I am satisfied with what I have done, and am always in
good humour ; but I like to have one or two old friends
with me — I do not much invite the juvenile, who think my
castle and me of equal antiquity, for no wonder, if they
B 2
4 To Sir Horace Mann [i774
suppose that George I lived in the time of the Crusades.
Adieu ! my good Sir, and pray let Burnham Wood and
Dunsinane be good neighbours.
Yours ever,
HoR. Walpolb.
1541. To SiE Horace Mann.
strawberry Hill, June 8, 1774.
We are still in the dark about Louis XVI, and do not
know whether he designs to make war on the old ministers,
on us, or on the ladies of pleasure. They represent him as
covetous, but he has only retrenched some tables at court,
and has remitted a great sum to the people. As the
blessings of the latter are more desirable than those of the
nobility, I am apt to think they are more prevalent too than
the maledictions of the latter.
As yet there seem to be no colours hung out by which
one can judge. D'AiguiUon, it is thought, will fall, though
he is said to have betrayed ' Madame du Barri, and to have
prevented her escape. Were I an absolute monarch,
which such a man would make one wish oneself, I would
forbid him ever to set his foot in a town where there was
a single gentleman, as not fit to breathe where there is one.
Old La Vrillifere % another wretch, is likely to fall too,
unpitied. I wish the Chancellor' may too, who is a
villainous bashaw. Maurepas * does not gain ground. No
exiles are recalled. Were the Due de Choiseul to rise
again, I could easily tell what would happen. The Mes-
dames have had the small-pox, and have escaped, which
Lbttee 1541. — 1 This did not prove ' Maupeou. Walpole.
true. Walpole. * The Comte de Maurepas was
" Mens, de St. Florentine, Secre- disgraced in 1749, Louis XVI re-
tary of State, and then Duo de la called him to court, and made him
Vrillifere. Walpole. Chef du Conseil des Finances.
1774] To Sir Horace Mann 5
makes one glad after such meritorious behaviour, — meri-
torious, but which it was cruel not to restrain.
Indeed, we want no foreign war : the scene in America
grows serious. We have this week heard that New York
has taken as warm a part as Boston against the teas. The
House of Commons sits very late every day, though at this
season, on a bill for settling Canada ; and though it is said
the Parliament will rise next week, I should think the
prorogation would be very short, till the news from America
are better. Lord Chatham has appeared in the House of
Lords, but pleased nobody but Lord Temple, with whom
he is again strictly united, which you may mention to
his sister ^ This is the sum of public history, at least
that I know, who have been very little in town this
month.
The Duke of Devonshire and Lady Georgiana Spencer
were married on Sunday; and this month Lord Stanley
marries Lady Betty Hamilton ', He gives her a most
splendid entertainment to-morrow at his villa' in Surrey,
and calls it a fete champetre. It will cost five thousand
pounds. Everybody is to go in masquerade, but not in
mask. He has bought all the orange-trees round London,
and the haycocks, I suppose, are to be made of straw-
coloured satin.
Lady Mary Coke is arrived. She has not been false to
the Duke of York's bed, but was so frail as to cuckold his
vault ; for she went down into that at St. Denis with Louis
Quatorze, as she did into that at Westminster when the
Princess died. Her Grace of Kingston, though a phe-
nomenon, is no original ; the purchase of Sixtus Quintus's
' Miss Anne Fitt, then in W\o- Smith-Stanley, Lord Stanley, who
rence, succeeded his grandfather as twelfth
« Lady Elizabeth Hamilton (d. Earl of Derby in 1776.
1797), daughter of sixth Duke of ' The Oaks, Epsom.
Hamilton ; m. (June 23, 1774) Edward
6 To Sir Horace Mann [l774
villa* seems to be an imitation of that stroller, Queen
Christina.
My chapel is finished, and Donatello's St. John is en-
shrined in it. In truth, every chamber at Strawberry is
enriched with your presents, which are its most valuable
ornaments ; — the Caligula, the Castiglione, Bianca Capello,
Benvenuto Cellini's casket, the Florentine box. Take
notice, I have not an inch of space left, neither in my
house nor my gratitude. I have even forgotten some, as
the intaglia of an Apollo, and perhaps twenty things more.
I am sorry to tell Mrs. Pitt that her house at Knights-
bridge has been led astray, the moment she turned her
back : see what it is to live in a bad neighbourhood !
Pittsburgh, the Temple of Vesta, is as naughty as Villa
Kingstoniana ; not that Dr. EUiot's pretty wife" has
married another husband in his lifetime ; but she has
eloped with my Lord Valentia", who has another wife
and some half-dozen children. The sages of Doctors'
Commons are to be applied to. I am much obliged to
Mrs. Pitt for forcing you to tell me you are safe from your
verdigris. It would have been shocking to have heard
J- it, and waited for the post. Her ball she described to you
was very like the cloth of a thousand yards, on which were
painted all the kings and queens in the universe, and
which cloth was lapped up in the kernel of a nut. You
are very happy in having such company ; it will indemnify
you for forty dozen of bears and bear-leaders, that you
8 Then known as the Villa Ne- the Duke of Entland's mistress had
groni. villas also. Walpole. — Mrs. Elliot
Miss Dalrymple, wife of Sir John was afterwards known as Mme. de
Elliot, the physician, from whom she St. Alban.
was divorced for many adulteries, '» Arthur Annesley (1744-1816),
and became a celebrated courtesan, eighth Viscount Valentia, created
known by the name of Dolly the Earl of Mountnorris in 1793 ; m.
Tall. Sir J. Elliot had bought Mrs. (1767) Hon. Lucy Fortescue Lyttelton
Anne Pitt's villa at Knightsbridge, (d. 1783), only daughter of first Baron
where the Duchess of Kingston and Lyttelton,
1774] To Sir Horace Mann 7
have been endeavouring for these thirty years to tame, and
the latter half of which never are licked into form. Adieu !
P.S. I am reading Montaigne's Travels, which have "'
lately been found ; there is little in them but the baths
and medicines he took, and what he had everywhere for
dinner. He was in Italy in 1 580, and the only thing that
has struck me in the first volume was his seeing Bianca
Capello at dinner. He describes her very like your — my
picture. She sat above the Duke, and her brother and his
wife dined with them, and the Cardinal Ferdinand".
Montaigne says the houses in Italy at that time had no
glass windows. His editor, who is a silly fellow, says
Pius V obliged Cosimo the Great to marry his mistress
Camilla Martelli". I never heard this anecdote ; is it
true? Pray ask Mrs. Pitt if Madame Griffoni, though
thirteen years younger, preserves any remains of beauty,
like the Duchess of Queensberry. I take my Signora to be
full threescore.
11th.
I had forgotten to send my letter to town, and so can
answer one I have this instant received from you. I am
more sorry for your disappointment in losing your new
friend" than surprised. There is a strange oddness, that
at times has been more than oddness ; in short, I do not
know whether I am quite sorry ; it is better to have parted
in violent friendship than the contrary.
The Due d'Aiguillon is certainly out of place, and is
succeeded by M. de Vergennes, Ambassador at Stockholm,
of whom I know nothing ; M. de Muy" has the departe-
" Cardinal Ferdinand de' Medici " Mrs. Anne Pitt. Walpole.
(1549-1609), afterwards Grand Dnke " Louis Nicolas Victor de FSlix
of Tuscany as Ferdinand I. (1711-1776), Comte du Mny; Mar^-
12 Cosimo I did marry Camilla chal de France, 1775.
Kartelll Walpole.
8 To the Countess of Upper Ossory [i774
ment de la Guerre. The young King seems in no hurry.
There is a notion that he does not love the English. I
don't know where he will find the minister that does ;
but if the Queen has influence, and her brother '" has any
over her, we shall not have a war— from thence : I will not
answer for Spain.
If Lady 0. asks you any questions, pray only say you
believe I am here, and that as her son is in the country on
his side, you imagine we are not much together. I do not
desire to give her reasons for quarrelling with him again.
1542. To THE Countess op Uppee Ossoey.
Strawberry Hill, June 14, 1774.
Virgin Mary ! offended at you, Madam ! I have crossed
myself forty times since I read the impious words, never to be
pronounced by human lips, — nay, and to utter them, when
I am seemingly to blame, — yet, believe me, my silence is
not owing to negligence, or to that most wicked of all sins,
inconstancy. I have thought on you waking or sleeping,
whenever I have thought at all, from the moment I saw
you last ; and if there was an echo in the neighbourhood
besides Mr. Cambridge, I should have made it repeat your
Ladyship's name, tUl the parish should have presented it
for a nuisance. I have begun twenty letters, but the naked
truth is, I found I had absolutely nothing to say. You
yourself owned. Madam, that I am grown quite lifeless,
and it is very true. I am none of your Glastonbury thorns
that blow at Christmas. I am a remnant of the last age,
and have nothing to do with the present. I am an exile
from the sunbeams of Drawing-rooms ; I have quitted the
gay scenes of Parliament and the Antiquarian Society ;
I am not of Almack's ; I don't understand horse-races ;
15 The Emperor Joseph n, brother of Queen Marie Antoinette.
1774] To the Countess of Upper Ossory 9
I never go to reviews ; what can I have to talk of? I go to
no fetes champetres, what can I have to think of? I know
nothing but about myself, and about myself I know nothing,
I have scarce been in town since I saw you, have scarce
seen anybody here, and don't remember a tittle but having
scolded my gardener twice, which, indeed, would be as
important an article as any in Montaigne's Travels, which
I have been reading, and if I was tired of his Essays,
what must one be of these ! "What signifies what a man C
thought, who never thought of anything but himself ; and j
what signifies what a man did, who never did anything ? '
I hear nothing from Trance, but that M. d'Aiguillon
has given up the Seals. Lady Mary Coke is arrived, but
as she never condescends to level her telescope but at the
fixed stars, she certainly knows nothing of the meteors
of the day, and therefore I shall not expect much intelligence
from her.
Mr. Anstey, who ought to have shot himself the moment
he had finished the Bath Guide, has published the most
complete piece of stupidity I ever read. It is a satire on
a parson who writes against him in the newspapers, and
cannot, it is impossible, have written worse than Anstey
himself. The latter has been enrolled in Mr. Miller's
Parnassus at Bath, and is quite raving mad that his bouts
rimes are not admired. What shall we come to? I am
afraid of opening a new book. The reigning dullness is so
profound, that it is not even ridiculous.
Thank Heaven the age is as dull as I am ! Pray tell |
me, Madam, some of Lady Anne's Ions mots to enliven me
a little. I am expecting Lords Ashburnham, March, Digby,
Williams, and George Selwyn.
N.B. I shall not ask for any of the Fagnanina's^ sayings.
It is a dinner in honour of Lord Ashburnham, who pro-
linrrKx 1542. — ' Maria Fagniani, who was adopted by Selwyn,
10 To Sir William Hamilton [l774
cured for me the window of my chapel, which is just finished
and divine, and ready against the Catholic religion is quite
restored. Miss Aikin ■' has been here this morning (she is
just married) ; she desired to see the Castle of Otranto ;
I let her see all the antiquities of it.
1543. To SiK "William Hamilton.
strawberry Hill, June 19, 1774.
Foe fear of troubling you, dear Sir, with two letters
instead of one, I waited for the arrival of the shields^
before I thanked for them — but it put my gratitude to pain,
for I did not receive them till the day before yesterday.
Now they are come, it wUl, which is very selfish, double
my gratitude, for they are fine and m.ost charming — nay,
almost in too good taste, not to put my Gothic house to
shame — I wish the Medusas could turn it to stone ! In
short, I am exceedingly obUged to you ; but though I have
spared you one letter of my own, it will cost you another
of yours, for you must tell me more about them. The two
that are painted are in the great style of the best age ; and
by the Earl of Surry's shield in the Duke of Norfolk's
possession, which is in the same manner as to the form
and disposition, though not so bold, 1 should conclude they
are by Polidore, or of that school. Pray satisfy me, and
of the pedigree of the other too, which by the battlements
on the buildings my house pretends is of its own family.
2 Anna Letitia (1743-1825), daugh- other of Perseua : on the insides are
ter of Dr. John Aiiin ; ni, (1 774) Rev, battles in gold. They came out of
Eochemont Barbaxild. She was the the collection of Oommendatore Vit-
author of the Hymns in Prose /or toria at Naples, and were sent to
Children. Mr. W. by Sir W. Hamilton, with
Letter 1 543. — Not in C. ; now a third of iron, representing the
first printed from original in pos- story of Ourtins, but certainly not
session of Mr. John W. Ford. antique, as there is a cannon and an
' ' Two shields of leather, for embattled tower at a distance.' {De-
toumaments, painted by Polidore; acription of Strawberry Hill.)
one has the head of Medusa, the
1774] To Sir William Hamilton 11
I am going to hang them by the beautiful armour of
Francis I, and they will certainly make me dream of another
Castle of Otranto, or at least of a tournament more superb
than Lord Stanley's fite champetre, though the latter cost
half a million. Indeed, if gratitude was apt to colour one's
dreams, I have so many monuments of your kindness and
friendship, that my house and garden would make my
sleep as agreeable as my waking hours. I should write
another Gerusalemme for Eleanora d'Este '', and pray for you
in my new chapel, which is just finished, and where the
shrine appears more gorgeous than the spoils
Of Ormus and of Ind.
I do not mean new Claremont, which is not half so mag-
nificent. You will not expect English news at this time
of year. We have none but what we import from France,
where the new King and his brothers were to be inoculated
yesterday. His Majesty is so economic that he will not
give fetes ehampetres. The French, who did not intend
to like, adore him ; and the Queen, who is too much the
Virgin Mary, has quite dethroned the latter in their idolatry.
The Due d'Aiguillon is removed, which delights almost
everybody, and the Due de Choiseul has been at Versailles,
which pleases almost as many — though not us, for we have
no mind to a war.
General Conway is gone a tour of armies, because he has
not seen enough of them. Lady Ailesbury and Mrs Darner
are to fetch him from Paris in October.
The Duke of Devonshire is married ; Lord Stanley and
Lady Betty Hamilton are to be in July. Some wedlocks
are breaking too : Lord Valentia has preferred Dr. Elliot's
' A marble bas-relief, inscribed pole by Sir William Hamilton. It
IHa Helianora, and representing the "was placed in the cloister at Straw-
Princess with whom Tasso was in berry Hill,
love, was presented to Horace Wal-
12 To Sir William Hamilton [l774
pretty wife to his own plain one ; but I do not find that
there was much preference on her side, but rather on the
Doctor's, for he has selected Lord Valentia from several
other lords and gentlemen who have been equally kind to
the fair one.
We have the most delightful of all summers — fruits,
flowers, corn, grass, leaves — in short, though Judsea flowed
with milk and honey, I do not believe it was much richer
than the present face of England. I know but one richer
spot, which is Almack's, where a thousand meadows and
cornfields are staked at every throw, and as many villages
lost as in the earthquake that overwhelmed Herculaneum
and Pompeii.
Pray tell Lady Hamilton I heard a new instrument
yesterday, which transported me, though I have not the most
musical ears in the world. It is a copulation of a harpsi-
chord and a violin ; one hand strikes the keys and the
other draws the bow ; the sounds are prolonged, and it
is the softest and most touching melody I ever heard. The
instrument is so small it stands on a table and is called
a Celestinette '. St. Cecilia or Lady Hamilton would draw
all the angels out of heaven with it, or immediately be
appointed organists there.
Adieu ! dear Sir — shield me from any more presents.
Consider how you have loaded me, and though gratitude is
seldom mortal, I cannot bear so many obligations. I do
not know how to be enough
Your very thankful
Humble servant,
HoR. Walpole.
" It was invented by Mason the poet.
1774] To the Hon. Henry Seymour Conway 13
1544. To THE Hon. Henry Seymoub Conway.
strawberry Hill, June 23, 1774.
1 HAVE nothing to say — which is the best reason in the
world for writing ; for one must have a great regard for
anybody one writes to, when one begins a letter neither
on ceremony nor business. You are seeing armies', who
are always in fine order and great spirits when they are
in cold blood : I am sorry you thought it worth while
to realize what I should have thought you could have seen
in your mind's eye. However, I hope you will be amused
and pleased with viewing heroes, both in their autumn and
their bud. Vienna will be a new sight ; so will the Austrian
eagle and its two heads ^. I should like seeing, too, if any
fairy would present me with a chest that would fly up into
the air by touching a peg, and transport me whither I
pleased in an instant: but roads, and inns, and dirt are
terrible drawbacks on my curiosity. I grow so old, or so
indolent, that I scarce stir from hence ; and the dread of
the gout makes me almost as much a prisoner, as a fit
of it. News I know none, if there is any. The papers
tell me the City was to present a petition to the King
against the Quebec BUI ' yesterday ; and I suppose they
will t«]l me to-morrow whether it was presented. The
Lettee 1544. — 1 Mr. Conway was that province, except taxation, which
I now on a tonx of zuilitaiy curiosity council should be appointed by the
throughFlanders,Q-emiany, Prussia, crown, the office to be held during
and part of Himgary, Walpole. pleasure ; andhisMajeaty'sCanadian
2 The Empress-Queen Maria The- Eoman Catholic subjects were en-
resa and her son the Emperor Joseph, titled to a place in it. To establish
who was joint-regent of her heredi- the French laws, and a trial without
tary states. jnry, in civil cases, and the English
' 'The principal objects of the laws, with a trial by jury, in criminal
Quebec BUI were to ascertain the To secure to the Boman Catholic
limits of that province, which were clergy, except the Regulars, the legal
extended far beyond what had been enjoyment of their estates, and of
settled as such by the King's pro- their tithes from all who are of their
clamation of 1763. To form a legis- own religion,' (Ann. Beg. 1774, p. 75.)
lative council for all the affairs of
14 To Sir Horace Mann [i774
King's Speech tells me there has nothing happened between
the Eussians and the Turks. Lady Barrymore told me
t'other day that nothing was to happen between her and
Lord Egremont. I am as well satisfied with these negatives
as I should have been with the contrary. I am much more
interested about the rain, for it destroys all my roses and
orange-flowers, of which I have exuberance ; and my hay
is cut, and cannot be made. However, it is delightful to
have no other distresses. When I compare my present
tranquillity and indifference with all I suffered last year*,
I am thankful for my happiness, and enjoy it— unless the
bell rings at the gate early in the morning — and then
I tremble, and think it an express from Norfolk.
It is unfortunate, that when one has nothing to talk of
but oneself, one should have nothing to say of oneself.
It is shameful, too, to send such a scrap by the post.
I think I shall reserve it till Tuesday. If I have then
nothing to add, as is probable, you must content yourself
with my good intentions, as you, I hope, will with this
speculative campaign. Pray, for the future, remain at
home, and build bridges : I wish you were here to expedite
ours to Eichmond, which they tell me will not be passable
these two years. I have done looking so forward. Adieu !
1545. To SiE HoEACE Mann.
strawberry Hill, July 10, 1774.
The month is come round, and I have, besides, a letter
of yours to answer ; and yet if I was not as regular as
a husband or a merchant in paying my just dues, I think
I should not perform the function, for I certainly have
no natural call to it at present. Nothing in yours requires
a response, and I have nothing new to tell you. Yet, if
* During the illness of his nephew, Lord Orford. Walpole.
1774] To Sir Horace Mann 15
one once breaks in upon punctuality, adieu to it ! I will
not give out, after a perseverance of three-and-thirty years ;
and so far I will not resemble a husband.
The whole blood royal of France is recovered from the
small-pox. Both Choiseul and Broglio are recalled, and
I have some idea that even the old Parliament will be so.
The King is adored, and a most beautiful compliment has
been paid to him: somebody wrote under the statue of
Henri Quatre, Besurrexit.
Lord Holland is at last dead, and Lady Holland is at
the point of death. His sons would still be in good cir-
cumstances, if they were not his sons ; but he had so
totally spoUed the two eldest, that they would think them-
selves bigots if they were to have common sense. The
prevailing style is not to reform, though Lord Lyttelton
pretends to have set the example. Gaming, for the last
month, has exceeded its own outdoings, though the town
is very empty. It wUl be quite so to-morrow, for New-
market begins, or rather the youth adjourn thither. After
that they will have two or three months of repose ; but
if they are not severely blooded and blistered, there will
be no alteration. Their pleasures are no more entertaining
to others than delightful to themselves ; one is tired of
asking every day who has won or lost? and even the
portentous sums they lose cease to make impression. One
of them has committed a murder, and intends to repeat'
it. He betted 1,500Z. that a man could live twelve hours
under water ; hired a desperate fellow, sunk him in a ship,
by way of experiment, and both ship and man have not
appeared since. Another man and ship are to be tried for
their lives, instead of Mr. Blake, the assassin.
Christina, Duchess of Kingston, is arrived, in a great
fright, I believe, for the Duke's nephews are going to prove
her first marriage, and hope to set the will aside. It is
16 To the Bev. William Mason [i774
a pity her friendship with the Pope had not begun earlier ;
he might have given her a dispensation. If she loses her
cause, the best thing he can do will be to give her the
veil.
I am sorry all Europe will not furnish me with another
paragraph. Africa is, indeed, coming into fashion. There
is just returned a Mr. Bruce ^ who has lived three years
in the court of Abyssinia, and breakfasted every morning
with the Maids of Honour on live oxen. Otaheite and
Mr. Banks are quite forgotten ; but Mr. Blake', I suppose,
will order a live sheep for supper at Almack's, and ask
whom he shall help to a piece of the shoulder. Oh yes ;
we shaU have negro butchers, and French cooks will be laid
aside. My Lady Townshend, after the Eebellion, said
everybody was so bloodthirsty, that she did not dare to
dine abroad, for fear of meeting with a rebel-pie — now one
shall be asked to come and eat a bit of raw mutton. In
truth, I do think we are ripe for any extravagance. I am
not wise enough to wish the world reasonable — I only
desire to have follies that are amusing, and am sorry
Cervantes laughed chivalry out of fashion. Adieu !
1546, To THE E.EV. "William Mason.
strawberry Hill, July 19, 1774.
I SEND you by the Fraser-Mercury the Itinerary of Mr.
Gray with my manuscript additions. I don't know whether
I have made them too long or too short, but as you are
entirely at liberty to curtail or lengthen, or omit such as
you disapprove, it does not signify what they are. They
have indeed a fault I cannot mend, unless by time, and
which yet I probably shall not mend: I mean they are
Ltdttee 1545. — 1 James Bruce ^ Who betted on the man's living
(1730-1 794), the traveller. under water twelve hours. Walpole.
1774] To the Rev. William Mason 17
not complete ; for there are some considerable places that
I never saw, and I am grown too lazy, since I can walk but
little, to think of visiting them now.
I shall take care how I wish earnestly again for your
coming southward : you gave me so little of your time and
was so much in request, that I was only tantalized. I like
your fixed stars that one can pore at when one pleases ;
but there is such a fuss with you comets, that even women
and children must know all about them.
I know nothing but that we have deplorable weather;
the sun, like you, has called but once at Strawberry. To
make amends, the cold has brought on the winter fruits so
fast, that I had a codlin tart to-day, and expect pears and
apples ripe before peaches and nectarines. I wish we had
never imported those southern delicacies, unless we had
brought their climate over too. We should have been very
happy with our hips and haws, and rainy days, and called it
luxury. I cannot afford to have hothouses, and glass-
houses, and acres of tanner's bark, as every tradesman has
at his villa, or at his mistress's villa. I kill my own straw- 1
berries and cream, and can aim no higher.
Do you know that it would be charity to send me some-
thing to print, or to tell me what I shall print ? My press
is at a dead stand, and I would fain employ it while I may,
without permission of a licencer, for though it has always
been as harmless as if it was under the cannon of Sion
Hill, it would be vocal no more, if it might only utter Dutch
Bibles, or editions in usum DelphiniK I know you have
twenty things in your portefeuiUe. I will print as few
copies as you please. I have no ambition of serving or
amusing the public, and think of nothing but diverting
myself and the few I love. What signifies taking the trouble
Lettkr 1546. — 1 LadyHoldemesse band (the owner of Sion Hill) was
was a Dutchwoman, and her huB- Governor to the Prince of Wales.
WALPOLE. IX Q
18 To the Bev. William Cole [i774
to be put, I don't know how soon, into an Index Eacpur-
gaforius ! To-day is ours ; let us enjoy it.
Yours ever,
H. W.
1547. To THE Rev. William Cole.
strawberry Hill, July 21, 1774.
YouE Ulness, dear Sir, is the worst excuse you could
make me ; and the worse, as you may be well in a night,
if you will, by taking six grains of James's powder. He
cannot cure death ; but he can most complaints that are
not mortal or chronical. He could cure you so soon of
colds, that he would cure you of another distemper, to
which I doubt you are a little subject, the fear of them.
I hope you were certain that illness is a legal plea for
missing induction, or you will have nursed a cough and
hoarseness with too much tenderness ; as they certainly
could bear a journey. Never see my face again, if you
are not rector of Burnham. How can you be so bigoted
to Milton ' ? I should have thought the very name would
have prejudiced you against the place, as the name is all
that could approach towards reconciling me to the fens.
I shall be very glad to see you here, whenever you have
resolution enough to quit your cell. But since Burnham
and the neighbourhood of Windsor and Eton have no
charms for you, can I expect that Strawberry Hill should
have any? Methinks, when one grows old, one's co-
temporary friends should be our best amusement ; for
younger people are soon tired of us, and our old stories : but
I have found the contrary in some of mine. For your
part, you care for conversing with none but the dead:
for I reckon the unborn, for whom you are writing, as
much dead as those from whom you collect.
IiBTTEE 1517. — ^Dated by C. June 21. l Cole was an extreme Tory.
1774] To the Bev, William Cole 19
You certainly ask no favour, dear Sir, when you want
prints of me. They are at anybody's service that thinks
them worth having. The owner sets very little value on
them, since he sets very little indeed on himself ; as a man,
a very faulty one ; and as an author, a very middling one :
which whoever thinks a comfortable rank, is not at all of
my opinion. Pray convince me that you think I mean
sincerely, by not answering me with a compliment. It
is veiy weak to be pleased with flattery ; the stupidest of
all delusions to beg it. From you I should take it ill.
We have known one another almost fifty years — to very
little purpose, indeed, if any ceremony is necessary, or
downright sincerity not established between us. Only tell
me that you are recovered, and that I shall see you some
time or other. I have finished the Catalogue of my collec-
tion ; but you shall never have it without fetching, nor, .
though a less punishment, the prints you desire. I propose
in time to have plates of my house added to the Catalogue,
yet I cannot afford them, unless by degrees. Engravers
are grown so much dearer, without my growing richer, that
I must have patience ! a quality I seldom have, hut when
I must. Adieu! Yours ever,
H. W.
P.S. 1 have lately been at Ampthill, and saw Queen
Katharine's cross. It is not near large enough for the situa-
tion, and would be fitter for a garden than a park : but it is
executed in the truest and best taste. Lord Ossory is quite
satisfied, as well as I, and designs Mr. Essex a present of
some guineas. If ever I am richer, I shall consult the
same honest man about building my of&ces, for which
I have a plan : but if I have no more money ever, I will
not run in debt, and distress myself; and therefore remit
my designs to chance and a little economy.
c 2
20 To the Countess of Upper Ossory [i774
1548. To THE Countess op Upper Ossoey.
strawberry Hill, July 30, 1774.
I CAN satisfy few of your Ladyship's questions about
Lady Holland, except by what little I heard from Mr. Craw-
furd, who came hither one evening between eight and nine,
and went away the moment he had breakfasted the next
morning. Of her death he told me nothing. The fortune
he thinks much more considerable than the family ex-
pected. This Lord Holland will have 10,OOOZ. a year.
Charles Fox will be entirely cleared, have his place, and
200L a year, and 10,0002., a pretty beginning for a younger
brother, for Julius CsBsar not a breakfast. Henry ^ has
20,000Z., and 900Z. a year. There is a strange legacy to
Lady Sarah' of 200Z., and Mrs. Mellier' is forgotten. Un-
doubtedly poor Lady Holland knew little what she said :
indeed, six hundred drops of laudanum every day could
leave her very little reflection.
Lord Thomond's no-will is still more surprising, as he
was persuaded he should die this year. He had had a draft
of a will from his lawyer three years ago, and had not
filled up the blanks. As he had taken the government of
Lord Egremont's next brother *, that boy was supposed his
heir. Lord Egremont has made strict inquiry, and said he
would comply literally with whatever he could learn were
his uncle's instructions ; but nobody can recollect the
smallest hint. They say Lord Egremont was his favourite,
and I believe he chose this way of heaping everything on
the head of the Wyndhams.
Lettkk 1548. — ' Henry Fox, Lord panion to Lady Ilohester and to Lady
Holland's youngest son. Holland.
2 Lady Sarah Bnnbury, sister of * Hon. Percy Charles Wyndham,
Lady Holland. socond son of second Earl of Egre-
3 Mrs. MelUar's maiden name was mont.
Cheeke. She had formerly been com-
1774] To the Countess of Upper Ossory 21
Pray, Madam, tell the Duchess of Bedford how sensible
I am of her goodness. I am thoroughly so of the merits
of the whole Fitzpatrickhood, but it is very hard to set me
on thrumming a lyre like an old blind harper when you
have such a cygnet amongst you as Mr. Eichard °. I shall
certainly let him know immediately how glad I shall be to
see him, if he wUl bring his own company with him, or
I can assemble any he would like ; but do not think I will
punish him with a tete-a-tete, and my stories of the last age.
Nothing upon earth is so insipid as my life to anybody but
myself. For example, how do you think. Madam, he would
have found me employed if he had called yesterday ?
Writing the history of Twickenham, and surrounded with
books of peerages to find out who an ancient Lady West-
moreland * was that lived in the back lane here. Think of
my joy when I discovered that she was sister of Grammont's
Lady Shrewsbury ', and aunt of Myra ', of the first Duchess
of Eichmond ', and of a Lady Molyneux ", who was a toast
of the Kit Cat Club, and died smoking a pipe ! Judge how
much Mr. Fitzpatrick would be amused with such game !
There is little probability of my accompanying Lady
Ailesbury and Mrs. Damer to Paris. I am within two
months of my biennial fit of the gout, and for the last four
days have been alarmed with symptoms of it, as great
■> Hon. Eichard Fitzpatrick. as ' Myra ' by lord Lansdowne and
6 Lady Dorothy BnideneU,yonngest by Dr. WUliam King (nephew of her
daughterofsecondEarlof Cardigan J third husband) in a mook-heroic
m. (1) Charles Fane, third Earl of poem called The Toast.
Westmorland j (2) Eobert Constable, ' Hon. Anne BrudeneU, m. (1)
third Viscount Dunbar ; d. 1740. Henry Belasyse, second Baron Bela-
' Lady Anna Maria Brudenell, m. syse of Worlaby ; (2) Charles Lenox,
(1) Francis Talbot, elerenth Earl first Duke of Eichmond ; d. 1722.
of Shrewsbury ; (2) George Eodney i» Hon. Mary BrudeneU (d. 1765),
Bridges ; d. 1702. m. (1) Eichard Molyneux, third Vis-
* Hon. Frances Brudenell, m. (1) count Molyneux; (2) Captain Peter
Charles Livingston, second Earl of Osborne. These ladies were dangh-
Newburgh ; (2) Eichard Bellow, third ters of Francis BrudeneU, Lord
Baron BeUew of Duleek ; (3) Sir BrudeneU, eldest son of second Earl
Thomas Smythe. She was celebrated of Cardigan, whom he predeceased.
22 To the Countess of Upper Ossory [1774
nervousness and feverish pains flying about me. It would
be more prudent to go to Bath, or to the seaside : I detest
the first, and do not know how to amuse myself at the
second. In truth I am not very ill, for I slept last night
from half an hour past twelve till nine ; but my dread of
the gout is incredible, and of having it anywhere but at
home still greater, so that unless I have a slight fit soon,
I shall not have courage for a long journey, though I have
curiosity to peep at the new reign. I have been charmingly
interrupted ; Mr. Fitzpatriek has been here two houi-s;
I told him what I had said to your Ladyship, and sent him
back with his pocket stuffed with books, but such as he
may read when his servant is curling his hair. One was
a collection of ballads in Queen Anne's time ! I hope they
will put him in tune. Now for the court of France.
Monsieur de Boynes, a rising genius in the last ministry,
is turned out, and a Monsieur Turgot" made Secretary of
State for the Marine in his room, a friend of Maurepas.
The Duke of Orleans and the Duke of Chartres are for-
bidden the court for refusing to assist at the catafalque of
the late King, when they must have saluted the Parliament,
whom they will not acknowledge — however, this rod is
supposed to be laid on only in ceremony, and my letters
bid me not conclude thence that the new Parliament will
be maintained ; accordingly I conclude it will not. My
faith about things indifferent is pretty obedient, and may
be led like a child. Consequently I would not for the
world have a table of trou-madame^'^ , without a king and
a queen : I should detest a republican table, and wish
^^ Anne Bobert Jacqaes Tnrgot of pensions and useless offices. He
(1727-1781), Baron de I'Aune. He was dismissed by Louis XVI in 1776.
became ContrSleur G-6n6ral des Fi- ^^ ( Sorte de jeu forni6 de plusienrs
nances in August 1774. His career arcades numerot^es qu'on cherche
as a financial reformer was pat a k enfiler avec des petites boules
stop to by the clamours of those who d'iyoire.' (Laroosse.)
objected to bis plans for the abolition
1774] To Sir Horace Mann 23
I could have one cut out of the same log of wood with your
Ladyship's for the sake of the hereditary line.
Let me beseech you if it thunders to go into the cellar,
and say the collect about bad weather. I could not bear
another disappointment in the right line, and am not in-
different to that succession, but beg my trourmadame may
have a king as well as a queen.
1549. To Sir Horace Mann.
Arlington Street, Aug. 8, 1774.
I TOLD you in my last that her Grace of Kingston was
arrived. Had I written it four-and-twenty hours lat«r,
I might have told you she was gone again, with much
precipitation, and with none of the pomp of her usual
progresses. In short, she had missed her lawyer's letters,
which warned her against returning. A prosecution for
bigamy was ready to meet her. She decamped in the
middle of the night ; and six hours after the officers of
justice were at her door to seize her. This is but an un-
heroic catastrophe of her romance ; and though she is as
thorough a comedian as Sixtus Quintus, it would be a little
awkward to take possession of his villa, after being burnt
in the hand. What will be the issue of the suit and law-
suit I cannot tell. As so vast an estate is the prize, the
lawyers will probably protract it beyond this century. Her
friend the Electress of Saxony' said to the Duke of Glou-
cester, ' Poor thing ! what could she do ; she was so young
when she was first married?'
Lady Holland is dead — ^just three weeks after her Lord,
She has cleared all the debts of her two elder sons ; the
eldest has a large fortune, and Charles a decent beginning
Lbti^b 1549 1 Maria Antonia of Bavaria, wife of the Elector Frederick
Angnstns III of Saxony.
24 To Sir Horace Mann [i774
of another ; though it may not last a night, if he chooses
to make it a codicil to all he has lost, and scorns to be
indebted to anything but his own parts for his elevation.
Lord Thomond' is dead too; and though possessed of
near ten thousand a year, and fifty thousand in money,
nay, though he has long expected to die suddenly, and at
the same age with his grandfather, father, and brother, as
he has done, he could not bring himseK to make a wUl, and
the whole real estate falls to his nephew, Lord Egremont.
These are all the events of this inactive summer ; and
I chose this small paper, as abundantly large enough to
contain them. Nay, I do not see how I shall reach its
third page.
1 find that in France they are persuaded the old Parlia-
ment will be restored. The Dukes of Orleans and Chartres
are again forbidden the court for refusing to assist at the
catafalque of the late King, where they must have saluted
the new Parliament: yet this is not thought a disgrace.
Monsieur de Boines is removed for a Monsieur Turgot.
I see, however, that the old spirit remains at least in one
quarter, and that they continue butchering the poor Corsi-
cans. Is it true that the King of Sardinia is to have that
island ? How unfortunate it is that little countries should
retain a spirit of independence, which they have not
strength to preserve ; and that great nations, who might
throw it off, court the yoke !
4th.
Oh, my dear Sir, what a heartfelt pleasure I have had
this moment ! I have been to Mr. Croft's to see your
picture. It brought the tears into my eyes ; though thirty
years have fattened you, made you florid, I traced eveiy
feature, and saw the whole likeness in the character and
2 Percy Wmdiam O'Brien, Earl of Thomond, second son of Sir WiUiam
Windham, and younger brother of Charles, Earl of Egremont. Walpole.
1774] To Sir Horace Mann 25
countenance — yes, there is all your goodness. I admire
the art of the painter too ; there is harmony in the tone,
and though he has given you an Adonis-wig, which grave
we should not think adapted to your age, he has managed
it so as to have no juvenile air, but to harmonize in the
utmost propriety with the decency of the ministerial com-
posure. In short, as I did once before, I wanted to seize
it for my own — but no ! it will go to Linton ", and I hope
remain there for ages — which would not, I suppose, be its
fate at Strawberry ; that poor bauble will probably be con-
demned and pulled to pieces by whomever I shall give it
to. Our living deeds create no gratitude ; can we expect
our affection expressed in a last will should make stronger
impressions ?
Mr. Croft showed me a letter from you on Birmingham
covers for dishes. He has written, but received no answer.
I told him I would advise you against them. All plated
silver wears abominably, and turns to brass, like the age.
You would not bear it sis months. He told me that
your nephew Horace is on the road to you : how glad
I am ! what joy to embrace dear Gal's son ! I think
I have seen too many bad hearts in the countenance, not
to know when I see a good one ; yes, yes, you will find
Gal and yourself in your nephew. I am as sure there is
goodness in his heart, as I am that there is sense in his
head, and quickness in his parts. I was charmed with him
last year ; and don't fancy it is partiality if you think so
too the first minute you see him. Certain characters strike
fire from each other.
The King of Prussia has been amazingly gracious to
General Conway, and ordered him to attend him to all his
reviews. This is most astonishing favour to an English-
man. For my part, I am sorry ; I had rather such virtue
' The seat of the Manns in Kent.
26 To George Augustus Selwyn [i774
had been marked by his frown. ' There are many Marina's
in that Cffisar,' a quotation you will not suspect me of in-
tending for a compliment ! Adieu ! How I love your
picture ! Tell me who painted it. I am sure not the one-
eyed German who drew Madame Griffoni like a surly
Margravine.
1550. To Geoege Augustus Selwyn.
strawberry Hill, Wednesday, Aug. 10th,
at night.
I THINK I shall be with you' on Saturday; at least,
I know that I intend to set out to-morrow, and lie at Park
Place. But it is so formidable to me to begin a journey,
and I have changed my mind so often about this, though
I like it so much, that I beg you will not be disappointed
if you do not see me. If I were juvenile enough to set off
at midnight, and travel aU night, you would be sure of
me ; but folks who do anything eagerly neither know nor
care what they do. Sedate me, who deliberate, at least
do not determine but on preference ; therefore, if I sur-
mount difGculties, I shall at least have some merit with
you ; and, if I do not, you must allow that the diffi-
culties were prodigious, when they surmounted so much
inclination.
In this wavering situation I wish you good night, and
hope I shall wake to-morrow as resolute as Hercules or
Mr. Bruce. But pray do not give me live-beef for supper.
Yours ever,
H. W.
Letter 1550. — ' At Matson, George Selwyu's seat near Gloucester.
1774] To the Countess of Upper Ossory 27
1551. To THE Countess of Uppee Ossoey.
Thursday, Aug. 11, 1774.
Though my chaise is at the door, and the wind and tide
fair, I cannot receive a line from you, Madam, to tell me so
kindly you are well, without stopping a minute to answer
it, I am disappointed, I am vexed, but I am happy you
are so soon in spirits again. Don't trust to your strength,
nor your health, which ia the only way to keep both.
Don't be brave this month : the weather is already much
cooler, and you need not catch cold to prove how in-
tolerable the heat is. I don't design to acknowledge
Anne III ; I shall call her Madame de Trqp, as they named
one of the late King of France's daughters. A dauphin I
a dauphin ! I will repeat it as often as the Graces. Apropos,
Mr. Cambridge came yesterday and said he must ask to see
something I had lately written. I had kept it a profound
secret, but concluded Garrick had told him of the verses ',
and that it was vain to deny them. Well, I produced
them. He stared, was civil about them, and said he was
glad he had got them into the bargain, for he had not
heard of them, but meant the parody of Lord Chesterfield's
Letters ^, which was quite out of my head. I was horridly
out of countenance, and to rap my own fingers for my
blunder, would not show him what he wanted. This comes
of your Ladyship's flattering me !
One may weed and weed one's heart, but if a grain of
that devil, vanity, lights on it, it springs up till it chokes
one. You have no notion how vexed I was at my own folly
— a boy-poet would scarce have been caught so ! It is in
vain to say, ' The woman gave me, and I did eat.'
Adieu ! my Eve ; as angry as I am, I wish you no worse
Lbtteb 1551. — ^ Horace Walpole's ' See Worft* of Lord Orford, vol, iv.
verses on Tli£ Three Yemora. p. 355.
28 To the Bev. William Cole [i774
punishment than hers, and I hope it wUl fall on you before
eleven months are over.
1552. To THE Eev. "William Cole.
Deab Sie, Matson, near Gloucester, Aug. 15, 1774.
As I am your disciple in antiquities, for you studied them
when I was but a scoffer, I think it my duty to give you some
account of my journeyings in the good cause. You will not
dislike my date : I am in the very mansion where King
Charles the First and his two eldest sons lay during the
siege, and there are marks of the last's hacking with his
hanger on a window, as he told Mr. Selwyn's grandfather
afterwards. The present master has done due honour to
the royal residence, and erected a good marble bust of the
martyr in a little gallery. In a window is a shield in
painted glass, with that King's and his Queen's arms, which
I gave him. — So you see I am not a rebel, when alma mater
antiquity stands godmother.
I went again to the cathedral, and, on seeing the monu-
ment of Edward II, a new historic doubt started, which
I pray you to solve. His Majesty has a longish beard, and
such were certainly worn at that time. Who is the first
historian that tells the story of his being shaven with cold
water from a ditch, and weeping to supply warm, as he
was carried to Berkeley Castle ? Is not this apocryphal ?
The house whence Bishop Hooper was carried to the stake
is still standing tale quale. I made a visit to his actual
successor, Warburton, who is very infirm, speaks with much
hesitation, and, they say, begins to lose his memory. They
have destroyed the beautiful cross ; the two battered heads
of Henry III and Edward III are in the postmaster's
garden.
Yesterday I made a jaunt four miles hence that pleased
1774] To the Bev. William Cole 29
me exceedingly, to Prinknash *, the individual villa of the
abbots of Gloucester — I wished you there with their mitre
on. It stands on a glorious but impracticable hill, in the
midst of a little forest of beech, and commanding Elysium.
The house is small, but has good rooms, and though
modernized here and there, not extravagantly. On the
ceiling of the hall is Edward IVth's jovial device, a
faucon serrure. The chapel is low and small, but antique,
and with painted glass, with many angels in their corona-
tion robes, i. e. wings and crowns. Henry VIII and Jane
Seymour lay here ; in the dining-room are their arms in
glass, and of Catherine of Arragon, and of Bray and Bridges.
Under a window, a barbarous bas-relief head of Harry,
young; as it is still on a sign at an ale-house, on the descent
of the hill. Think of my amazement, when they showed
me the chapel plate, and I found on it, on four pieces, my
own arms, quartering my mother-in-law Skerret's, and in
a shield of pretence, those of Fortescue, certainly by mistake
for those of my sister-in-law, as the barony of Clinton was
in abeyance between her and Fortescue Lord Clinton''.
The whole is modern and blundered, for Skerret should
be impaled, not quartered, and instead of our crest, are two
spears tied together in a ducal coronet, and no coronet for
my brother, in whose time this plate must have been made,
and at whose sale it was probably bought, as he finished the
repairs of the church at Houghton, for which, I suppose,
this decoration was intended — but the silversmith was no
herald, you see.
As I descended the hUl, I found in a wretched cottage
a child in an ancient oaken cradle, exactly in the form of
that lately published from the cradle of Edward II — I pur-
chased it for five shillings, but don't know whether I shall
Letter 1552. — ^ Near Ptiinswiok.
> See Table I.
30 To the Bev. William Cole [i774
have fortitude enough to transport it to Strawberry Hill —
people would conclude me in my second childhood.
To-day I have been at Berkeley and Thornbury Castles.
The first disappointed me much, though very entire. It is
much smaller than I expected, but very entire, except a
small part burnt two years ago, while the present Earl was
in the house. The fire began in the housekeeper's room,
who never appeared more ; but as she was strict over the
servants, and not a bone of her was found, it was supposed
that she was murdered, and the body conveyed away. The
situation is not elevated nor beautiful, and little improve-
ments made of late, but some silly ones a la cMnoise by the
present Dowager ^ In good sooth, I can give you but a very
imperfect account, for instead of the Lord's being gone to
dine with the Mayor of Gloucester, as I expected, I found
him in the midst of all his captains of the militia. I am
so sillUy shy of strangers and youngsters, that I hurried
through the chambers, and looked for nothing but the way
out of every room. I just observed that there were many
bad portraits of the family, but none ancient, as if the
Berkeleys had been commissaries, and raised themselves
in the last wai'. There is a plentiful addition of those of
Lord Berkeley of Stratton ; but no Knights Templars, or
barons as old as Edward L Yet are there three beds on
which there may have been as frisky doings three centuries
ago, as there probably have been within these ten years.
The room shown for the murder of Edward II, and the
' shrieks of an agonizing King *,' I verily believe to be genuine.
It is a dismal chamber, almost at top of the house, quite
detached, and to be approached only by a kind of foot-
bridge, and from that descends a large flight of steps that
' The Dowager Conntesa of Berke- ' The shrieks of death, thro' Berke-
ley married secondly Eobert (after- ley's roofs that ring,
wards Earl) Nugent, Shrieks of an agonizing King ! '
* See The Bard :—
1774] To the Rev. William Cole 31
terminate on strong gates; exactly a situation for a eotps
de garde. In that room they show you a cast of a face in
plaster, and tell you it was taken from Edward's. I was
not quite so easy of faith about that, for it is evidently the
face of Charles I. The steeple of the church, lately rebuilt
handsomely, stands some paces from the body : in the latter
are three tombs of the old Berkeleys, with cumbent figures.
The wife of the Lord Berkeley' who was supposed to be
privy to the murder has a curious headgear: it is like
a long horseshoe, quilted in quaterfoils, and, like Lord
Foppington's wig, allows no more than the breadth of a
half-crown to be discovered of the face. Stay, I think I
mistake ; the husband was a conspirator against Eichard II,
not Edward; but in those days loyalty was not so rife as
at present.
From Berkeley Castle I went to Thombury', of which
the ruins are half ruined. It would have been glorious, if
finished — I wish the Lords of Berkeley had retained the
spirit of deposing till Harry the Vlllth's time! The
situation is fine, though that was not the fashion, for all
the windows of the great apartment look into the inner
court — the prospect was left to the servants. Here I had
two adventures. I could find nobody to show me about.
I saw a paltry house that I took for the sexton's, at the
corner of the close, and bade my servant ring and ask who
could show me the castle. A voice in a passion flew from
a casement, and issued from a divine — ' What ! was it his
business to show the castle ? Go look for somebody else !
What did the fellow ring for, as if the house was on fire ? '
° Thomas BerkelejCd. 1361), eighth before the accessioii of Bichard It.
Baron Berkeley. The e&gy is that * The remains of a castle begun
of his second wife, Catherine Clive- by Edward Stafford (1478-1621),
don, widow of Sir Peter le Veel. third Duke of Buckingham, executed
Lord Berkeley figured in the reigns for high treason in the reign of
of Edward n and m. He died Henry VIII.
32 To the Bev. William Cole [i774
The poor Swiss came back in a fright, and said the doctor
had sworn at him. Well ! we scrambled over a stone stile,
saw a room or two glazed near the gate, and rung at it.
A damsel came forth, and satisfied our curiosity. When
we had done seeing, I said, ' Child, we don't know our way,
and want to be directed into the London road : I see the
Duke's '' steward yonder at the window ; pray desire him to
come to me, that I may consult him.' She went, he stood
staring at us at the window — and sent his footman. I do
not think courtesy is resident at Thornbury. As I returned
through the close, the divine came running out of breath,
and without his beaver or bands, and calls out, ' Sir, I am
come to justify myself; your servant says I swore at him,
I am no swearer — Lord bless me ! (dropping his voice) is it
Mr. Walpole ? ' ' Yes, Sir, and I think you was Lord Beau-
champ's tutor at Oxford, but I have forgot your name.' —
'Holwell', Sir.' 'Oh yes ' and then I comforted him,
and laid the ill-breeding on my footman's being a foreigner,
but could not help saying, I really had taken his house for
the sexton's. — 'Yes, Sir, it is not very good without, won't
you please to walk in ? ' I did, and found the inside ten
times worse, and a lean wife, suckling a child. He was
making an index to Homer, is going to publish the chief
beauties, and I believe had just been reading some of the
delicate civilities that pass between Agamemnon and Achilles,
and that what my servant took for oaths were only Greek
compliments. Adieu ! You see I have not a line more of
paper.
Yours ever,
H. W.
T The Duke of Norfolk, who bought 1798). Ke yaW.Bb.e6i T!ie Beauties of
the castle and manor of Thornbury Homer, selected from the Iliad, in
from the fourth Earl of Stafford. 1775.
8 Eev. William HolweU (1726-
1774] To the Hon. Henry Seymour Conway 33
1553. To THE Hon. Henht Seymoub Conway.
strawberry Hill, Aug. 18, 1774.
It is very hard, that because you do not get my letters,
you will not let me receive yours, who do receive them.
I have not had a line from you these five weeks. Of your
honours and glories fame has told me ^ ; and for aught
I know, you may be a veldt-marshal by this time, and
despise such a poor cottager as me. Take notice, I shall
disclaim you in my turn, if you are sent on a command
against Dantzic, or to usurp a new district in Poland.
I have seen no armies, kings, or empresses, and cannot
send you such august gazettes ; nor are they what I want
to hear of. I Uke to hear you are well and diverted ; nay,
have pimped towards the latter, by desiring Lady AOesbury
to send you Monsieur de Guisnes's invitation to a military
fete at Metz*. For my part, I wish you was returned to
your plough. Your Sabine farm' is in high beauty. I have
lain there twice within this week, going to and from a visit
to George Selwyn, near Gloucester : a tour as much to my
taste as yours to you. For fortified towns I have seen
ruined castles. Unluckily, in that of Berkeley I found a
whole regiment of militia in garrison, and as many young
officers as if the Countess' was in possession, and ready to
surrender at indiscretion. I endeavoured to comfort my-
self by figuring that they were guarding Edward II. I
have seen many other ancient sights without asking leave
of the King of Prussia : it would not please me so much to
write to him, as it once did to write for him *.
Lettee 1553. — ^ Alluding to the Walpole.
distinguished notice taken of General ' Park Place. Walpole.
Conway by the King of Prussia. * The CoTintesB of Berkeley.
Walpole. ** Alluding to the letter to Koufi-
'^ To see the review of the French seau in the name of the King of
regiment of Carabineers, then com- Prussia. Walpole.
manded by Monsieur de Guines.
WALPOLE. IX T»
34 To the Hon. Henry Seymour Conway [i774
They have found at least seventy thousand pounds of
Lord Thomond's ". George Howard' has decked himself
with a red riband, money, and honours ! Charming things !
and yet one may be very happy without them.
The young Mr. Coke ' is returned from his travels in love
with the Pretender's queen ^ who has permitted him to
have her picture. What can I tell you more? Nothing.
Indeed, if I only write to postmasters, my letter is long
enough. Everybody's head but mine is full of elections.
I had the satisfaction at Gloucester, where George Selwyn
is canvassing, of reflecting on my own wisdom. Suave
mari magno turbantibus aequora ventis, &c. I am certainly
the greatest philosopher in the world, without ever having
thought of being so : always employed, and never busy :
eager about trifles, and indifferent to everything serious.
Well, if it is not philosophy, at least it is content. I am
as pleased here with my own nutshell, as any monarch you
have seen these two months astride his eagle — not but
I was dissatisfied when I missed you at Park Place, and
was peevish at your being in an Aulie chamber. Adieu !
Yours ever,
Hoe. Walpole.
P.S. They tell us from Vienna that the peace is made
between Tisiphone and the Turk : is it true '" ?
" Percy Wyndham O'Brien. He Chelsea Hospital ; Keld Marshal,
was the second son of Sir William 1793.
Wyndham, the Chanoelior of the ' Thomas WiUiam Coke (1754-
Bxohequer to Queen Anne, and took 1812), created Earl of Leicester in
the name of O'Brien pursuant to the 1837.
will of his uncle the Earl of Tho- ° The Countess of Alhany.
mond in Ireland. Walpole. lO Peace between the Turks and
' Lieutenant-General Sir George Bussians was signed on July 21,
Howard (d. 1796), of the family of 1774.
the Earls of Effingham, Governor of
1774] To the Bev. William Mason 35
1554. To THE Eev. William Mason.
Excuse me, but I cannot take your advice, nor intend to
print any more for the public. When I offer you my press
it is most selfishly, and to possess your writings, for I would
only print a few copies for your friends and mine. My
last volume of the Anecdotes of Painting has long been
finished, and as a debt shall some time or other be published,
but there I take my leave of Messieurs the readers. Let
Dr. Johnson please this age with the fustian of his style,
and the meanness of his spirit; both are good and great
enough for the taste and practice predominant. I think
this country slaking fast into ruin ; and when it is become
an absolute monarchy and thence insignificant, I do not
desire to be remembered by slaves, and in a French province.
I would not be VirgU or Boileau on such conditions. Present
amusement is all my object in reading, writing, or printing.
To gratify the first especially, I wish to see your poem
finished :
You, who ere while the happy garden sung,
continue to
sing
Eecovered Paradise!
I am less impatient for Gray's Life, being sure of seeing it,
whether published or not: and as I conclude neither his
letters nor Latin poems will be admired to the height they
deserve, I am jealous of his fame, and do not like its being
cast before swine. In short, I wish his and your writings
to meet with a fate that not many years ago was reckoned
an ignominy, that they may be sent to the colonies ! for
Arts and sciences wiU travel west
and
The sad Nine in Britain's evil hour
will embark for America.
D 2
36 To the Countess of Upper Ossory [i774
I have been in Gloucestershire, and can add a little to the
catalogue, having seen Berkeley Castle, Thornbury Castle,
and a charming small old house of the abbots of Gloucester.
Indeed I could not enjoy the first, for the Earl was in it
with all his militia, and dispelled visions. To Wentworth
Castle I shall certainly make no visit this year. If I went
any journey it would be to Paris ; but indolence persisting
in her apprehensions of the gout, though I have had no
symptoms of it for some time, will fix me here and here-
abouts. I discover charms in idleness that I never had
a notion of before, and perceive that age brings pleasures as
well as takes away. There is a serenity in having nothing
to do, that is delicious : I am persuaded that little princes
assumed the title of Serene Highness from that sensation.
Your assured friend,
Horace le Faineant.
Given at our Castle of Nonaucli, Aug. 23, 1774.
Salute our trusty and well-beloved the Palsgrave' on
our part.
1555. To THE Countess op Uppee Ossoet.
strawberry Hill, Monday night, Aug. 23, 1774.
YouB Ladyship's letter did not arrive tiU I was gone to
Goodwood, and sat here quietly till I returned to-night,
for as my voyages and travels are seldom longer than
a parenthesis, I never oblige my dispatches to follow me.
Though you do not ask, I am sure you wish to know what
I heard of the Duchess of Leinster '. Not a word was men-
tioned. Last night the Duke received a letter to tell him
liBTTEB 1554. — 1 Maaou's friend, married aeoondly (about thia time)
the Eev. William Palgrave. William Ogilvie, her sons' tutor.
liETTBR 1555. — ^ Emilia Lennox, The match was strongly disapproved
widow of the first Duke of Leinster, of by her family.
1774] To the Countess of Upper Ossory 37
his niece " is married to Lord Bellamont, Lady A.' asked
the Duchess of E.* about the mother. She said they had
heard the report, but did not believe it; and indeed they
were all in such good spirits, that I cannot think they give
any credit to the marriage.
I saw charming Lady Sarah ", who is a little fatter, but as
fresh and beautiful as ever : her little girl is sweetly pretty
and lively. We had much billiards, music, loo, and company ;
I could take no part in the two first ; I love most of the last,
that I know, and as there were two or three children, and
two- or three-and-forty dogs, I could not want amusement,
for I generally prefer both to what the common people call
Ghristia/ns.
I like all the account you give me, Madam, but of your
nerves, and of those I don't at all despair. When Madame
de Trop " ceases to be the youngest of your race, I dare to
say I shall love her, especially when Lady Anne begins to
love her less than her brother ; but, remember, a brother is
the sine qua non of my reconciliation.
I don't pretend to call this a letter, it is only a note,
I know ; but what can I tell you. Madam, from country-
houses? or is anything so bad as a letter when one has
really no news, and nothing particular to say ?
P.S. I had sealed my letter, but open it again that your
* Lady Emilia Maria Margaret Goodwood, where her brother, the
Fitzgerald, eldest daughter of first Doke of Eiohmond, built her a small
Duke of Leinster; m. (Aug. 20, 1774) house in the park, called Halnaker.
Charles Coote, first Earl of Bellamont. The daughter mentioned above bore
s The Countess of Ailesbnry. the surname of Bunbury, although
* The Duchess of Biohmond, she was not the child of Sir Charles
sister-in-law of the Duchess of Bunbury. She died of consumption,
Leinster. unmarried, in 1785, four years after
* Lady Sarah Bunbury was sepa- Lady Sarah's marriage to Hon.
rated from her husband, from whom George Napier.
she eloped in 1769 with Lord William « Lady Gertrude Fitzpatrick (bom
Gordon. She was divorced from Sir in August 1774), the youngest of
Charles Bunbury in 1776. She was Lord Ossory'a two daughters. She
at this time living in retirement at died unmarried in 1841.
38 To Sir Horace Mann [l774
Ladyship may have the freshest intelligence of the following
great news — very important, at least, to my friends in France.
In a postscript ' I have just received are these words : —
'Choses nouveUes et trfes certaines, M. Terray est exile
k la Motte. M. Turgot a les Finances. M. de Sartine la
Marine. La Police n'est point donn^e. M. le Chancelier '
est exil6 pour trois jours h. la Bruifere, au bout desquels trois
jours il a ordre d'aller dans une de ses terres beaucoup plus
eloignees. M. de Miromenil', ci-devant Premier President
de Eouen, est Garde des Sceaux, et Vice-ChanceUer.' — I am
going to make a French bonfire.
1556. To SiE HoEACE Mann.
strawberry Hill, Sept. 2, 1774.
You think I write seldom, my dear Sir, but how can I
help it? Not seldomer, I hope, than in other peaceful
summers. In vacations of London and Parliament, little
happens weighty enough to bear so long a journey. This
season has been singularly barren. Perhaps events may
thicken, which, prosperous or not, are equally propitious to
correspondences. The scene in America, they say, grows
very gloomy ; CsBsar ^ frowns on the Elector of Hanover ;
but I know neither Atlantic nor German politics. Tou tell
me what the Turks and Russians are to do next, but before
I received your letter, I could have told you that they have
agreed to do nothing more — which is much about what they
have been doing all the war. Well, still one has something
to live upon. The King of France has at last spoken out ;
both the Chancellor and Terray '•' are banished, and the old
' See letter of Madame du Deffand Lktteb 1556. — ^ The Emperor dis-
to Horace Walpole of Aug. 24, 1774. agreeing with the King on German
8 Maupeou. politics. Walpole.
' Armand Thomas Hue de Miro- ^ The Abb6 Terray, Comptroller-
mesnil (1723-1796). General of the Finances. Waljpole,
1774] To Sir Horace Mann 39
Parliament restored, or to be restored. As little as I care
about the revolutions of the great planets, I am mightUy
pleased with this convulsion. I like old constitutions re-
covering themselves ; and I abhorred the Chancellor, a con-
summate villain, who would have served Alexander VI and
Caesar Borgia too, and wished no better than to have restored
St. Ignatius and St. Nero. This young King is exceedingly
in my good graces ; and may gain my whole heart whenever
he pleases, if he will but release Madame du Barri, for,
though the tool of a vile faction, I would not be angry with
a street-walker ; nor make no difference between Thais and
Fred6gonde ; between Con Phillips ' and the Czarina.
By the way, one hears no more of my friend Pugatscheff ;
yet perhaps he contributed to this peace. It is now part of
my plan that the King of France should dethrone that woman,
and their Majesties of Prussia and Sweden, and restore
Corsica — not to the Genoese, but to themselves. You may
think all this a great deal, but it is not a quarter so difBcult
as conquering oneself, and relinquishing despotism. It is
a greater victory to make happy than miserable ; but then
what glorious rewards ! Think, how contemptible the end
of Louis the WeU-beloved, how bright the dawn of Louis XVI !
Can any power taste so sweet as this single word on the
statue of Henri Quatre, Resurrexit? And then, what a
blessed retirement the Chancellor's ! How he must enjoy
himself, when the loss of power is sweetened with the
curses of a whole nation, who have not cursed him Ln vain !
My whole heart makes a bonfire on this occasion. What
a century, which sees the Jesuits annihilated, and absolute
power relinquished ! I begin to believe in the millennium,
when the just shall reign on earth. I scorn to say a word
more, or profane such a subject with heathen topics. Adieu !
= Teresia Constantia Phillips (d. personage, who published an Apology
1765), a notorious and disreputable for her conduct in 1748.
40 To the Hon. Henry Seymour Conway [1774
P.S. My affection for your concerns betrays me into a
weakness ; I cannot help being so irreligious as to tell you
that you are to have a new neighbour, though not very soon ;
Lord Carlisle is to succeed Mr. Lynch at Turin *.
1557. To THE Hon. Heney Seymotje Conway.
strawberry Hill, Sept. 7, 1774.
I DID not think you had been so like the rest of the world,
as, when you pretended to be visiting armies, to go in search
of gold and silver mines ^ ! The favours of courts and the
smiles of emperors and kings, I see, have corrupted even
you, and perverted you to a nabob. Have you brought away
an ingot in the calf of your leg ? What abomination have
you committed ? All the gazettes in Europe have sent you
on different negotiations : instead of returning with a treaty
in your pocket, you will only come back with bills of ex-
change. I don't envy your subterraneous travels, nor the
hospitality of the Hungarians. Where did you find a
1 spoonful of Latin about you ? I have not attempted to
! speak Latin these thirty years, without perceiving I was
j talking Italian thickened with terminations in us and orum.
I should have as little expected to find an Ovid in those
regions ; but I suppose the gentry of Presburg read him for
a fashionable author, as our 'squires and their wives do the
last collections of ballads that have been sung at Vauxhall
and Marybone. I wish you may have brought away some
sketches of Duke Albert's '' architecture. You know I deal
in the works of royal authors, though I have never admired
any of their own buildings, not excepting King Solomon's
* This report proved untrue. of Gran in Hungary. Walpole.
Letter 1557. — i Mr. Conway had » Probably Albert, Duke of Saxe-
gone to see the gold and silver mines Tesohen, son-in-law of the Empress
of Cremnitz, in the neighbourhood Maria Theresa.
1774] To the Hon. Henry Seymour Conway 41
Temple. Stanley' and Edmondson in Hungary! What
carried them thither ? The chase of mines, too ? The first,
perhaps, waddled thither obliquely, as a parrot would have
done whose direction was to Naples.
Well, I am glad you have been entertained, and seen such
a variety of sights. You don't mind fatigues and hardships,
and hospitality, the two extremes that to me poison travelling.
I shall never see anything more, unless I meet with a ring
that renders one invisible. It was but the other day that,
being with George Selwyn at Gloucester, I went to view
Berkeley Castle, knowing the Earl was to dine with the
Mayor of Gloucester. Alas ! when I arrived, he had put oif
the party to enjoy his militia a day longer, and the house
was fuU of officers. They might be in the Hungarian
dress, for aught I knew; for I was so dismayed, that I
would fain have persuaded the housekeeper that she could
not show me the apartments; and when she opened the
hall, and I saw it full of captains, I hid myself in a
dark passage, and nothing could persuade me to enter,
till they had the civility to quit the place. When I
was forced at last to go over the castle, I ran through it
without seeing anything, as if I had been afraid of being
detained prisoner.
I have no news to send you : if I had any, I would not
conclude, as all correspondents do, that Lady Ailesbury left
nothing untold. Lady Powis is gone to hold mobs at
Ludlow, where there is actual war, and where a knight,
I forget his name, one of their friends, has been almost cut
in two with a scythe. When you have seen all the other
armies in Europe, you will be just in time for many election-
battles — perhaps, for a war in America, whither more troops
are going. Many of those already sent have deserted ; and
to be sure the prospect there is not smiling. Apropos, Lord
' Mr. Hans Stanley. Walpole.
42 To the Countess of Upper Ossory [i774
Mahon *, whom Lord Stanhope, his father, will not suffer to
wear powder because wheat is so dear, was presented t'other
day in coal-black hair and a white feather : they said ' he
had been tarred and feathered.'
In France you will find a new scene ^ The Chancellor is
sent, a little before his time, to the devil. The old Parlia-
ment is expected back. I am sorry to say I shall not meet
you there. It will be too late in the year for me to venture,
especially as I now live in dread of my biennial gout, and
should die of it in an hotel garni, and forced to receive all
comers — I, who you know lock myself up when I am ill as
if I had the plague.
I wish I could fill my sheet, in return for your five pages.
The only thing you will care for knowing is, that I never
saw Mrs. Damer better in her life, nor look so well. You
may trust me, who am so apt to be frightened about her.
1558. To THE Countess op TJppee Ossoey.
Madam Strawberry Hill, Sept. 14, 1774.
' Methinks an uEsop's fable you relate,' as Dryden says in
The Hind and Panther. A mouse that wraps itself in a French
cloak and sleeps on a couch ; and a goldfinch that taps at the
window and swears it will come in to quadrille at eleven
o'clock at night ! no, no, these are none of .^sop's cattle ;
they are too fashionable to have lived so near the Creation.
The mouse is neither country mouse nor city mouse ; and
whatever else he may be, the goldfinch must be a Maccaroni,
or at least of the Scavoir vivre '. I do not deny but I have
some skiU in expounding types and portents ; and could
give a shrewd guess at the identical persons who have
* Charles Stanhope (1753-1816), science.
Viscount Kahon ; succeeded his * Upon the death of Louis XV.
father as third Earl Stanhope in Walpole.
1786. He was noted for his Repub- Letter 1658. — ^ A fashionable
lican views, and for his interest in club.
1774] To the Countess of Upper Ossory 43
travestied themselves into a quadruped and biped ; but the
truth is, I have uo mind, Madam, to be Prime Minister.
King Pharaoh is mighty apt on emergencies to send for us
soothsayers, and put the whole kingdom into our hands, if
his butler or baker, with whom he is wont to gossip, does
but tell him of a cunning man.
I have no ambition to supplant Lord North — especially as
the season approaches when I dread the gout ; and I should
be very sorry to be fetched out of my bed to pacify America.
To be sure. Madam, you give me a fair field for uttering
oracles : however, all I will unfold is, that the emblematic
animals have no views on Lady Louisa ^- The omens of her
fortune are in herself ; and I will burn my books, if beauty,
sense, and merit do not bestow all the happiness on her
they prognosticate.
I can as little agree to the Duchess of M.'s solution of the
Duchess of L.'s marriage, which, by the way, is at least not
over yet. Nor do I believe, whatever mamma knows, that she
will agree to it either ; and, for this reason, the efficacy of
pregnancy on a delicate constitution is no lasting nostrum.
A husband would be but a temporary preservative, and use-
less, when the operations of the remedy could not possibly
be of any service. Alas ! is a poor sick lady to leave off the
drug when it can no longer produce the wholesome tumour
on the patient !
1 doubt the Duchess of M. did not advert to the vicinity
of that hopeless season in the Duchess of L., or I think her
Grace would not have laid down a position from which such
disagreeable consequences might be drawn.
I like the blue eyes. Madam, better than the denomination
of Lady Gertrude Fitzpatrick, which, all respectable as it is,
2 Lady Louisa Fitzpatriok(d. 1789), oond wife, William Petty, second
daughter offirst Earl of Upper Ossory, Barl of Shelburne, "who was created
and sister-in-law of Horace Walpole's Marquis of Lansdowne in 1784.
correspondent; m. (1779), as his se-
>
44 To the Countess of Upper Ossory [i774
is very harsh and rough sounding ; pray let her change it
with the first goldfinch that offers. Nay, I do not even
trust to the blueth of the eyes. I do not believe they last
, once in twenty times. One cannot go into any village fifty
miles from London without seeing a dozen little children
with flaxen hair and eyes of sky-blue. What becomes of
them all ? One does not see a grown Christian with them
i twice in a century, except in poetry.
The Strawberry Gazette is very barren of news. Mr. Garrick
has the gout, which is of more consequence to the metropolis
than to Twitnamshire. Lady Hertford dined here last Satur-
day, brought her loo party, and stayed supper ; there were
Lady Mary Coke, Mrs. Howe, and the Colonels Maude and
Keene. This was very heroic, for one is robbed every
hundred yards. Lady Hertford herself was attacked last
Wednesday on Hounslow Heath at three in the afternoon,
but she had two servants on horseback, who would not let
her be robbed, and the highwayman decamped.
The greatest event I know was a present I received last
Sunday, just as I was going to dine at Lady Blandford's, to
whom I sacrificed it. It was a bunch of grapes as big — as
big — as that the two spies carried on a pole to Joshua ; for
spies in those days, when they robbed a vineyard, were not
at all afraid of being overtaken. In good truth this bunch
weighed three pounds and a half, cote rotie measure ; and
was sent to me by my neighbour Prado, of the tribe of
Issachar, who is descended from one of foresaid spies, but
a good deal richer than his ancestor. Well, Madam, I carried
it to the Marchioness, but gave it to the maitre d'Mtel, with
injunctions to conceal it till the dessert. At the end of
dinner, Lady Blandford said she had heard of three immense
bunches of grapes at Mr. Prado's at a dinner he had made
for Mr. Ellis. I said those things were always exaggerated.
She cried. Oh ! but Mrs. Ellis told it, and it weighed I don't
1774] To the Bev. William Mason 45
know how many pounds, and the Duke of Argyle had been
to see the hothouse, and she wondered, as it was so near,
I would not go and see it. ' Not I, indeed,' said I ; ' I dare to
say there is no curiosity in it.' Just then entered the gigantic
bunch. Everybody screamed. ' There, ' said I, ' I will be shot
if Mr. Prado has such a bunch as yours.' In short, she
suspected Lady Egremont, and the adventure succeeded to
admiration. If you wiU send the Bedfordshire waggon,
Madam, I will beg a dozen grapes for you.
Mr. Barker may pretend what he will, but if he liked
Strawberry Hill so well, he would have visited it again, and
by daylight. He could see no more of it at nine o'clock at
night than he does at this moment.
Pray, Madam, is not it Farming Woods' ' tide ? Who is
to have the care of the dear mouse in your absence ? I wish
I could spare Margaret, who loves all creatures so well that
she would have been happy in the ark, and sorry when the
Deluge ceased ; unless people bad come to see Noah's old
house, which she would have liked still better than cramming
his menagerie.
Postscript, entre nous. Have you heard that certain verses
have been read inadvertently to the D. of Gr.* ? I long to
know, but cannot learn who was the ingenious person.
1559. To THE Eev, "William Mason.
strawberry Hill, Sept. 16, 1774.
What is the commonest thing in the world ? — Lord !
how can you be so dull as not to guess ? why to be sure, to
hunt for a thing forty times, and give it over, and then find
it when you did not look for it, exactly where you had
hunted forty times. This happened to me this very morning,
' Lord Ossory'B seat in Northamp- * The Duke of Grafton, Lady
tonshire. Ossory's former husband.
46 To John Fenn [i774
and overjoyed I am. I suppose you don't guess what I have
found ? Eeally, Mr. Mason, you great poets are so absent,
and so unlike the rest of the world ! Why what should
I have found, but the thing in the world that was most
worth finding ? a hidden treasure — a hidden fig ; no, Sir,
not the certificate of the Duchess of Kingston's first marriage,
nor the lost books of Livy, nor the longitude, nor the philo-
sopher's stone, nor all Charles Fox has lost. I tell you it is
what I have searched for a thousand times, and had rather
have found than the longitude, if it was a thousand times
longer. Oh, you do guess, do you? I thought I never
lost anything in my life. I was sure I had them, and so
I had ; and now am I not a good soul, to sit down and send
you a copy incontinently ? Don't be too much obliged to
me neither. I am in a panic till there are more copies than
mine, and as the post does not go till to-morrow, I am in
terror lest the house should be burnt to-night. I have
a mind to go and bury a transcript in the field ; but then
if I should be burnt too ! nobody would know where to look
for it. Well, here it is ! I think your decorum will not
hold it proper to be printed in the Life, nor would I have
it. We will preserve copies, and the devil is in it, if some
time or other it don't find its way to the press. My copy
is in his own handwriting; but who could doubt it: I know
but one man upon earth who could have written it but
Gray^
1560. To John Fenn.
strawberry Hill, Sept. 17, 1774.
I AM much obliged to you. Sir, for your accurate drawing
and description of your picture, and wish I could say any-
liETTKR 1559. — 1 The original lines should be modified,
letter ends with a copy of Gray's Lxitee 1560. — Not in C. ; now first
verses, Jemmy Twitcher : or, the Cam' printed from original in possession
bridge Courtship, and a snggestion of Mr. Arthur H. Frere.
that the coarseness of the last two
1774] To John Fenn 47
thing satisfactory enough to ascertain whose portrait it is.
You will forgive me if I suggest doubts that do not tend to
corroborate your opinion ; and you must excuse them, as
I have never seen the picture itself.
By the general look and dress I should have concluded
it drawn in the reign of Henry 8th, or at soonest of
Henry 7th. The dress is extremely like those of the
former's time, and at present I cannot recollect having
seen any such even in the time of Edward 4th, when, and
in Henry 6th's time, they seem to have worn loose robes,
and especially not such close sleeves.
The red rose is a leading presumption that it represents
some prince of the house of Lancaster, though perhaps it
is no certain criterion. It was pretty common under
Henry 8th to give a flower in the hand. Edward the Sixth
is drawn with a pink. Still I am persuaded that during
the reign of Edward 4th and Eichard 3rd nobody would
have cared to bear a red rose.
That the picture represents the Duke of Gloucester or
Exeter I much question, as the distinction of the roses was
certainly not adopted so early as the time of the latter, and
I imagine not even in that of the former, nor till Richard
Duke of York, father of Edward 4th, declared his pretensions.
When the two roses were generally used as party distinctions
they may have been borne by the partisans of each faction
from zeal, and in that case the portrait would not necessarily
exhibit a prince of Lancaster, but only a zealous adherent.
This is mere conjecture. But I do think that, supposing it
a Lancastrian prince, it is one that lived after the accession
of Henry 7th, when the red rose was become a very courtly
cognizance. For instance, it may represent John Viscount
Wells, who was related to Henry 7th, and having married
a daughter of Edward 4th might choose to mark his attach-
ment to the red rose, for fear of being suspected in that
48 To John Fenn [1774
jealous time of being too partial to his wife's family. There
is another person whom I think it still more likely to repre-
sent, which is Sir Charles Somerset \ afterwards Earl of
Worcester, of the bastard line as Harry 7th himself was,
and ancestor of the Dukes of Beaufort. I know no man
either in that reign or the subsequent so likely to have
affected that royal badge, both as it flattered the King's and
his own very scanty pretensions to blood royal.
If we suppose it, as I own the dress inclines me to think,
of the reign of Henry 8th, I can find nobody whom it so
probably exhibits as Edward Stafford, the last Duke of
Buckingham, a true prince of the blood, and who aiming
at the crown, and being also, by his grandmother " I think,
descended from the Somersets, might affect the red rose,
the only royal cognizance of which the Henrys were not
jealous.
I could still hint at another person, supposing the picture
painted in the reign of Henry 7th, who was very likely to
give the cognizance of Lancaster ; I mean, his uncle, Jasper
Duke of Bedford.
In short. Sir, I fear we may multiply conjectures, and
yet not ascertain the specific person intended, as there are
only marks enough to furnish guesses, and we have not
lights from that age sufficient to identify the person. I
wish I could have given you better assistance ; but I had
rather leave obscurities in their darkness than, as most
antiquaries do, pronounce rashly. Truth is the sole merit
of most antiquities; and when we cannot discover the truth,
what value is there in dogmatic error about things that have
no intrinsic value ? — and such were all our pictures before
1 Natural son of Henry Somerset, ' The grandmother of the Duke of
third Duke of Beaufort, whose sur- Buckingham was Lady Joan Beau-
name he assumed. He was created fort, the legitimated daughter of
Earl of Worcester in 1511, and died John of Gtaunt. Duke of Lancaster.
in 1626.
1774] To Sir Horace Mann 49
Holbein, and infinitely the greater part of our pictures
since I
Mr. Granger, I see by the papers, has published his
Supplement. I have not yet received it. I am sorry his
bookseller has quoted me for the list of unengraved portraits.
It did not deserve such parade.
I am, Sir,
Your obedient humble servant,
Hoe. Walpole.
1561. To Sib Hoeace Mann.
strawberry Hill, Sept. 18, 1774.
What I am going to say to you you must manage with
the greatest prudence, that is, with your usual discretion
and good sense. I was this morning with your brother at
Eichmond. He made grievous complaints of your iiephew.
The chief points of resentment were these: first, that Sir
Horace before he went abroad would take all his own affairs
into his own hands, which before your brother conducted.
I could not hold this so very unreasonable. Secondly, that
he had taken away with him 9001. that your brother had
paid him, and whatever else he could amass. No great
crime in this. Lastly, that great bills came in from Sir
Horace's annuitants and creditors, though there is no money
to pay them. He thinks, continued your brother, that I
will pay his bills, rather than let him be dishonoured,
though he already owes me so much. I certainly will not
let him be disgraced abroad, especially as that would bring
him home — but I will not pay his annuitants here ; that
I am determined upon.
My dear Sir, it would be very impertinent in me to enter
Leitter 1561. — Not in C. ; now first printed from transcript in possession
of Earl Waldegrave.
WALPOLE. IX E
50 To Sir Horace Mann [i774
into this affair, if my motive was not so very good. But
obliged as I was to dear Gal, which I never do or can forget,
loving him and you as I do, and with great affection to your
nephew for your sakes and his own, for I was exceedingly
pleased with his good sense and handsome behaviour to me
last year, can I know what is of so much consequence to
him as his uncle's anger, and not do everything upon earth
in my power to prevent the worst consequences from it ?
What can I do so well as imparting it to you, your nephew's
best friend ? You wUl take the gentlest and fairest oppor-
tunities of warning him against offending your brother, who
you know may not be quite sorry to have cause to be out
of humour with him. In short, I need say no more. I
leave your nephew's interests in the best hands, I hope ;
nay, I think he has too much sense not to see how much it
is his own and the interest of his children to pay court to
your brother. He must see that you have no interest but
his to give this advice. You are as like your brother Gal
in attachment to him as you are in everything else — and
I hope you find he is like his father in affection to you. Take
care your brother knows nothing of this, though it is a very
honest secret to endeavour to make his nephew please him.
I have little or nothing else to say. I live chiefly
here, out of the world, sick of its transactions, and parting
with it silently and by degrees. Sorry from humanity for
what I see, but as without power of remedying, without
curiosity of knowing. The age seems to be growing as
ferocious as it is abandoned ; and though morality seldom
prevented any excesses, I think all Europe is growing so like
its Gothic ancestors, though without the plea certainly of
being overpeopled, that to march with vast usurping armies
is a sufl5cient reason for overrunning any neighbouring
countiy. I allude to the Emperor's invasion of the state
of Venice. I know nothing of it but from the public papers
1774] To Sir Horace Mann 51
— but why should I not believe it ? — Poland bids me believe
it, and this other reason ; this bird of prey, this eagle with
two beaks \ said lately to young George Grenville, ' As soon
as the breath is out of my mother's body, Europe will think
me as great an incendiary as the King of Prussia.' — How
decent to his mother! Does not she tremble? Do you
wonder I think he has not patience to wait for that
event ? How sensible too to blab his intentions ! And
so the King of Prussia, like other monsters, has disciples
already !
I tell you nothing of America, for you see in the papers
as much as I know. Here the rage of elections is already
begun ; Lord Orford has happily saved me from having any-
thing to do with them. It would have been the worst
thorn his illness could have planted in my side. He has
now taken to sailing, and lives three days and nights
together upon the water. If his physicians had ordered
him to be dipped in the sea, perhaps it would have been
their best prescription.
Tou asked me lately why Mr. Conway was gone abroad.
Certainly only to see armies, Prussian, Austrian, and French.
The incendiaries, master and scholar, have both been very
gracious to him. I had rather visit Etna and Vesuvius,
who cannot help making earthquakes. This world is one
great Alas! Most men suffer, yet all extol their chief
plagues ; yes, thanks to those dogs the litterati ! Adieu !
P.S. I hope Tuscan Secretaries of State do not open
letters. Bless me, I should be guilty of laesae Majestatis in
half the courts of Europe !
2nd P.S. I just hear that your Anglo-Florentine Earl ^ is
married at last, and to an Englishwoman, nay, and that he
1 It is not at all certain that this one from the same quarter. Walpole.
anecdote, which Mr. W. had heard, ' The third Earl Cowper. See
was true ; no more than a preceding p. 61.
E 2
52 To John Craufurd [l774
is coming home. This is so odd, that I think it no proof of
his being grown more reasonable.
1563. To John Ceaufubd.
strawberry Hill, Sept. 26, 1774.
You tell me to write to you, and I am certainly disposed
to do anything I can to amuse you ; but that is not so easy
a matter, for two very good reasons : you are not the most
amusable of men, and I have nothing to amuse you with,
for you are like electricity, you attract and repel at once ;
and though you have at first a mind to know anything, you
are tired of it before it can be told. I don't go to Almack's
nor amongst your acquaintance. Would you bear to hear
of mine ? of Lady Blandford, Lady Anne Conolly, and the
Duchess of Newcastle ? for by age and situation I live at
this time of year with nothing but old women. They do
very well for me who have little choice left, and who rather
prefer common nonsense to wise nonsense — the only differ-
ence I know between old women and old men. I am out
of all polities, and never think of elections, which I think
I should hate even if I loved politics ; just as if I loved
tapestry I do not think I could talk over the manufacture
of worsteds. Books I have almost done with too ; at least,
read only such as nobody else would read. In short, my
way of life is too insipid to entertain anybody but myself,
and though I am always employed, I must say I think
I have given up everything in the world only to be at liberty
to be very busy about the most arrant trifles.
Well ! I have made out half a letter with a history very
like the journal in the Spectator, of the man, the chief
incidents of whose life were stroking his eat, and walking
to Hampstead. Last night, indeed, I had an adventure
Letteb 156a — Collated with original in possession of Mr. John W. Ford.
1774] To John Craufurd 53
that would make a great figure in such a narrative. You
may be enjoying bright suns and serene horizons imder the
Pole, but in this dismal southern region it has rained for
this month without interruption. Lady Browne and I dined
as usually on Sundays with Lady Blandford. Our gentle
Thames was swelled in the morning to a very respectable
magnitude, and we had thought of returning by Kew Bridge;
however, I persuaded her to try if we could not ferry, and
when we came to the foot of the hUl, the bargemen told us
the water was sunk. We embarked and had four men to
push the ferry. The night was very dark, for though the
moon was up, we could neither see her, nor she us. The
bargemen were drunk, the poles would scarce reach the
bottom, and in five minutes the rapidity of the current
turned the barge round, and in an instant we were at Isle-
worth. The drunkenest of the men cried out, ' She is gone,
she is lost ! ' meaning they had lost the management. Lady
Browne fell into an agony, began screaming and praying to
Jesus, and every land and water god and goddess, and I, who
expected not to stop till we should run against Kew Bridge,
was contriving how I should get home; or what was worse,
whether I must not step into some mud up to my middle,
be wet through, and . get the gout. With much ado they
recovered the barge and turned it ; but then we ran against
the piles of the new bridge, which startled the horses, who
began kicking. My Phillis's terrors increased, and I thought
every minute she would have begun confession. Thank you,
you need not be uneasy ; in ten miautes we landed very
safely, and if we had been drowned, I am too exact not to
have dated my letter from the bottom of the Thames.
There ! there 's a letter ; I think you would not want to
read such another, even if written to somebody else.
Yours ever,
H. W.
54 To the Hon. Henry Seymour Conway [i774
P.S. Pontdeyvelde is dead, and our friend' fancies she
is more sorry than she fancied she should be : but it will
make a vacuum in her room rather than in her entertain-
ment.
Arlington Street, Sept. 29.
This letter, which should have gone two days ago, but
I had no direction, will come untimely, for you will be up
to the ears in your canvass", as the Parliament is to be
dissolved the day after to-morrow.
1563. To THE Hon. Heney Setmoue Conway.
strawberry Hill, Sept. 27, 1774.
I SHOULD be very ungrateful indeed if I thought of
complaining of you, who are goodness itself to me: and
when I did not receive letters from you, I concluded it
happened from your eccentric positions. I am amazed
that, hurried as you have been, and your eyes and thoughts
crowded with objects, you have been able to find time to
write me so many and such long letters, over and above all
those to Lady AUesbury, your daughter', brother, and other
friends. Even Lord Strafford brags of your frequent
remembrance. That yom- superabundance of royal beams
would dazzle you, I never suspected. Even I enjoy for
you the distinctions you have received — though I should
hate such things for myself, as they are particularly
troublesome to me, and I am particularly awkward under
them, and as I abhor the King of Prussia, and, if I passed
I Madame du Deffand, who on inutile de se plaindre, il faut savoir
Sept. 4, 1774, wrote to Horace Wal- supporter toute3 les situations oil
pole on Poutdeveyle's death as fol- I'on se trouve, et se dire que I'on
lows : — ' Je fais une tr6s-grande pourrait fitre encore plus malheu-
perte ; une connaissance de cin- reux.'
quante-cinq ans, qui 6tait devenue ^ Craufurd was elected for Ben-
une liaison intime, est irreparable. frewshire on Oct. 24, 1774.
Qu'est-ce que sont celles que I'on Letter 1563. — ^ Hon. Mrs. Banaer.
forme k mon age? Mais il est
1774] To the Hon. Renry Seymour Conway 55
through Berlin, should have no joy like avoiding him — like
one of our countrymen, who changed horses at Paris, and
asked what the name of that town was. All the other
civilities you have received I am perfectly happy in. The
Germans are certainly a civil, well-meaning people, and,
I helieve, one of the least corrupted nations in Europe.
I don't think them very agreeable; but who do I think
are so ? A great many Frenchwomen, some Englishmen,
and a few Englishwomen ; exceedingly few Frenchmen.
Italian women are the grossest, vulgarest of the sex. If
an Italian man has a grain of sense, he is a buffoon. So
much for Europe !
I have already told you, and so must Lady Ailesbury,
that my courage fails me, and I dare not meet you at Paris.
As the period is arrived when the gout used to come, it is
never a moment out of my head. Such a suffering, such
a helpless condition as I was in for five months and a half,
two years ago, makes me tremble from head to foot. I
should die at once if seized in a French inn ; or what, if
possible, would be worse, at Paris, where I must admit
everybody — I, who you know can hardly bear to see even
you when I am ill, and who shut up myself here, and
would not let Lord and Lady Hertford come near me —
I, who have my room washed though in bed, how could
I bear French dirt ? In short, I, who am so capricious, and
whom you are pleased to call a philosopher, I suppose
because I have given up everything but my own will — how
could I keep my temper, who have no way of keeping my
temper but by keeping it out of everybody's way ! No,
I must give up the satisfaction of being with you at Paris.
I have just learnt to give up my pleasures, but I cannot
give up my pains, which such selfish people as I, who have
suffered much, grow to compose into a system that they are
partial to, because it is their own. I must make myself
56 To the Hon. Henry Seymour Conway [1774
amends when you return: you will be more stationary,
I hope, for the future ; and if I live I shall have intervals
of health. In lieu of me, you will have a charming
succedaneum, Lady Harriet Stanhope. Her father'', who
is more a hero than I, is packing up his decrepit bones, and
goes too. I wish she may not have him to nurse, instead of
diverting herself.
The present state of your country is that it is drowned
and dead drunk ; all water without, and wine within.
Opposition for the next elections everywhere, even in
Scotland ; not from party, but as laying out money to
advantage. In the head quarters, indeed, party is not out
of the question : the day after to-morrow wUl be a great
bustle in the City for a Lord Mayor ', and all the winter in
Westminster, where Lord Mahon and Humphrey Cotes
oppose the court. Lady Powis is saving her money at
Ludlow and Powis Castles by keeping open house day and
night against Sir Watkin Williams, and fears she shall be
kept there till the general election. It has rained this
whole month, and we have got another inundation. The
Thames is as broad as your Danube, and all my meadows
are under water. Lady Browne and I, coming last Sunday
night from Lady Blandford's, were in a piteous plight. The
ferry-boat was turned round by the current, and carried to
Isleworth. Then we ran against the piers of our new
bridge, and the horses were frightened. Luckily, my
cicisbeo was a Catholic, and screamed to so many saints,
that some of them at the nearest ale-house came and saved
us, or I should have had no more gout, or what I dreaded
I should ; for I concluded we should be carried ashore
somewhere, and be forced to wade through the mud up
to my middle. So you see one may wrap oneself up in
2 The Earl of Harrington.
8 When Mr. Wilkes was elected. Walpole.
1774] To the Hon. Henry Seymour Conway 57
flannel and be in danger, without visiting all the armies
on the face of the globe, and putting the immortality of
one's chaise to the proof.
I am ashamed of sending you but three sides of smaller
paper in answer to seven large — but what can I do ? I see
nothing, know nothing, do nothing. My castle is finished,
I have nothing new to read, I am tired of writing, I have
no new or old bit for my printer. I have only black hoods
around me ; or, if I go to town, the family party in
Grosvenor Street '. One trait will give you a sample of
how I pass my time, and made me laugh, as it put me
in mind of you ; at least it was a fit of absence, much more
likely to have happened to you than to me. I was playing
at eighteenpenny tredrille with the Duchess of Newcastle
and Lady Browne, and certainly not much interested in the
game. I cannot recollect nor conceive what I was thinking
of, but I pushed the cards very gravely to the Duchess, and
said, 'Doctor, you are to deal.' You may guess at their
astonishment, and how much it made us all laugh. I wish
it may make you smile a moment, or that I had anything
better to send you. Adieu.
Most afifectionately yours ever,
HoK. Walpole.
1564 To THE Hon. Heney Seymoue Conway.
strawberry Hill, Sept. 28, 1774.
Lady Ailesbuey brings you this ^, which is not a letter,
but a paper of directions, and the counterpart of what I have
written to Madame du Deffand. I beg of you seriously to
take a great deal of notice of this dear old friend of mine.
She will, perhaps, expect more attention from you, as my
* Lord Hertford's. lady Ailesbury and Mrs. Damer
Lettek 1564. — 1 Mr. Conway ended went to meet him, and where they
his military tour at Paris, whither spent the winter together, Walpole.
58 To the Eon. Henry Seymour Conway [i774
friend, and as it is her own nature a little, than will be quite
convenient to you : but you have an infinite deal of patience
and good nature, and will excuse it. I was afraid of her
importuning Lady Ailesbury, who has a vast deal to see and
do, and, therefore, I have prepared Madame du Deffand,
and told her Lady Ailesbury loves amusements, and that,
having never been at Paris before, she must not confine her :
so you must pay for both — and it will answer: and I do
not, I own, ask this only for Madame du Deffand's sake, but
for my own, and a little for yours. Since the late King's
death she has not dared to write to me freely, and I want to
know the present state of France exactly, both to satisfy my
own curiosity, and for her sake, as I wish to learn whether
her pension, &c., is in any danger from the present ministry,
some of whom are not her friends. She can tell you a great
deal if she will — by that I don't mean that she is reserved,
or partial to her own country against ours— quite the
contrary ; she loves me better than all France together —
but she hates politics: and therefore, to make her talk on
it, you must tell her it is to satisfy me, and that I want to
know whether she is well at court, whether she has any
fears from the government, particularly from Maurepas and
Nivernois : and that I am eager to have Monsieur de Choiseul
and ma grand'maman, the Duchess, restored to power. If
you take it on this foot easily, she will talk to you with the
utmost frankness and with amazing cleverness. I have told
her you are strangely absent, and that, if she does not repeat
it over and over, you will forget every syllable : so I have
prepared her to joke and be quite familiar with you at once.
She knows more of personal characters, and paints them
better, than anybody : but let this be between ourselves, for
I would not have a living soul suspect that I get any
intelligence from her, which would hurt her; and, there-
fore, I beg you not to let any human being know of this
1774] To the Hon. Henry Seymour Conway 59
letter, nor of your conversations with her, neither English
nor French.
Madame du Deffand hates les pMlosophes ; so you must
give them up to her. She and Madame Geoffrin are no
friends : so, if you go thither, don't tell her of it. Indeed
you would be sick of that house, whither all the pretended
ieaux esprits and faux savants go, and where they are very
impertinent and dogmatic.
Let me give you one other caution, which I shall give
Lady Ailesbury too. Take care of your papers at Paris, and
have a very strong lock to your portefeuille. In the hotels
gamis they have double keys to every lock, and examine
every drawer and paper of the English they can get at.
They will pilfer, too, whatever they can. I was robbed of
half my clothes there the first time, and they wanted to
hang poor Louis to save the people of the house who had
stolen the things.
Here is another thing I must say. Madame du Deffand
has kept a great many of my letters, and, as she is very old,
I am in pain about them. I have written to her to beg she
wUl deliver them up to you to bring back to me, and I trust
she will. If she does, be so good to take great care of them.
If she does not mention them, tell her just before you come
away, that I begged you to bring them ; and if she hesitates,
convince her bow it would hurt me to have letters written in
very bad French, and mentioning several people, both French
and English, fall into bad hands, and, perhaps, be printed.
Let me desire you to read this letter more than once, that
you may not forget my requests, which are very important
to me ; and I must give you one other caution, without
which all would be useless. There is at Paris a Mademoiselle
de I'Espinasse ", a pretended bel esprit, who was formerly an
2 Julie Jeanne EWonore de I'Espi- of the Comtesse d'Albon, whose le-
nasse (1732-1776), natural daughter gitimate daughter was sister-in-law
\
60 To the Hon. Henry Seymour Conway [i774
humble companion of Madame du Deffand ; and betrayed
her and used her very ill. I beg of you not to let anybody
carry you thither. It would disoblige my friend of all things
in the world, and she would never tell you a syllable ; and
I own it would hurt me, who have such infinite obligations
to her, that I should be very unhappy, if a particular friend
of mine showed her this disregard. She has done everything
upon earth to please and serve me, and I owe it to her to be
earnest about this attention. Pray do not mention it ; it
might look simple in me, and yet I owe it to her, as I know
it would hurt her : and, at her age, with her misfortunes,
and with infinite obligations on my side, can I do too much
to show my gratitude, or prevent her any new mortification ?
I dwell upon it, because she has some enemies so spiteful
that they try to carry all English to Mademoiselle de
I'Espinasse.
I wish the Duchess of Choiseul may come to Paris while
you are there ; but I fear she will not ; you would like her
of all things. She has more sense and more virtues than
almost any human being. If you choose to see any of the
savans, let me recommend Monsieur Buffon. He has not
only much more sense than any of them, but is an excellent
old man, humane, gentle, well-bred, and with none of the
arrogant pertness of all the rest. If he is at Paris, you will
see a good deal of the Comte de Broglie at Madame du
Deffand's. He is not a genius of the first water, but lively
and sometimes agreeable. The court, I fear, will be at
Fontainbleau, which will prevent your seeing many, unless
you go thither. Adieu ! at Paris ! I leave the rest of my
of Madame du Deffand. Mile, de were aooustomed to assemble before
I'Espinasse was for ten years com- Madame du Deffand was ready to
panion to Madame du Deffand. In receive them. In consequence of
1763 the latter found out that her this discovery Mile, de I'Espinasse
companion secretly held a sdUm in was dismissed,
her own room, where her friends
1774] To Sir Horace Mann 61
paper for England, if I happen to have anything particular
to tell you.
1565. To SiK Horace Mann.
strawberry Hill, Oct. 6, 1774.
It would be unlike my attention and punctuality to see
so large an event as an irregular dissolution of Parliament,
without taking any notice of it to you. It happened last
Saturday, six months before its natural death, and without
the design being known but the Tuesday before, and that
by very few persons. The chief motive is supposed to be
the ugly state of North America, and the effects that a cross
winter might have on the next elections. Whatever were
the causes, the first consequences, as you may guess, were
such a ferment in London as is seldom seen at this dead
season of the year. Coxuriers, dispatches, post-chaises,
post-horses, hurrying every way ! Sixty messengers passed
through one single turnpike on Friday. The whole island
is by this time in equal agitation ; but less wine and money
will be shed than have been at any such period for these
fifty years.
We have a new famous bill, devised by the late
Mr. Grenville, that has its first operation now; and what
changes it may occasion, nobody can yet foresee. The first
symptoms are not favourable to the court ; the great towns
are casting off submission, and declaring for popular members.
London, Westminster, Middlesex, seem to have no monarch
but Wilkes, who is at the same time pushing for the
mayoralty of London, with hitherto a majority on the
poll. It is strange how this man, like a phoenix, always
revives from his embers ! America, I doubt, is stiU more
unpromising. There are whispers of their having assembled
an armed force, and of earnest supplications arrived for
succours of men and ships. A civil war is no trifle ; and
62 To Sir Horace Mann [i774
how we are to suppress or pursue it in such a vast region,
with a handful of men, I am not an Alexander to guess ;
and for the fleet, can we put it upon casters and wheel it
from Hudson's Bay to Florida ? But I am an ignorant soul,
and neither pretend to knowledge nor foreknowledge. All
I perceive already is that our Parliaments are subjected
to America and India, and must be influenced by their
politics ; yet I do not believe our senators are more
universal than formerly.
They say I was too precipitate in believing Lord Cowper's
match, yet most people think it is to be : a matter of perfect
indifference to me; I only mentioned it as a subject we
could both talk on : we have not many such. I saw the
Duchess of Beaufort t'other night, who is warm in your
praises. She is returned with an air of youth.
It would be quite unfashionable to talk longer of anything
but elections ; and yet it is the topic on which I never
talk or think, especially since I took up my freedom '-. In
one light I can speak of them. The whole world has been
so good for these six months as to believe my nephew quite
in his senses. It was very far from being my opinion.
You shall judge yourself. Lady Orford had given him
power over her boroughs. The moment Mr. Sharpe, her
agent, heard of the dissolution, he sent two expresses, one
after the other, to my Lord. He has not deigned to send
any answer or give any orders, except dispatching Mr.
Skreene' to one of them. Mr. Boone', his candidate for
the other, is in bed with the gout ; and though there is
a clear majority of three voices at one, Mr. Sharpe thinks
he will lose both by his improvidence. I had taken
measures to secure both. As everybody is as mad to
Lkttke 1565. — 1 Hia quitting Par- CalUngton on Oct. 13, 1774.
liament. WalpoU. =* Charles Boone, returned for
2 WiUiam Slirine, returned for Ashburton on Oct. 11, 1774.
1774] To Sir Horace Mann 63
secure boroughs, as my Lord is in neglecting, I fancy they
will allow now that his intellects are not quite so sound as
they imagined. If Lady Orford asks you any questions,
you may mention the state of the case in gentle terms ;
Mr. Sharpe, I conclude, will be more narrative.
In the midst of this combustion, we are in perils by land
and water. It has rained for this month without inter-
mission ; there is a sea between me and Eichmond, and
Sunday was se'nnight I was hurried down to Isleworth
in the ferry-boat by the violence of the current, and had
great difficulty to get to shore. Our roads are so infested
by highwaymen, that it is dangerous stirring out almost
by day. Lady Hertford was attacked on Hounslow Heath
at three in the afternoon. Dr. Eliot was shot at three
days ago, without having resisted ; and the day before
yesterday we were near losing our Prime Minister, Lord
North ; the robbers shot at the postillion, and wounded the
latter. In short, all the freebooters, that are not in India,
have taken to the highway. The Ladies of the Bed-
chamber dare not go to the Queen at Kew in an evening.
The lane between me and the Thames is the only safe
road I know at present, for it is up to the middle of the
horses in water. Next week I shall not venture to London
even at noon, for the Middlesex election is to be at Brent-
ford, where the two demagogues, Wilkes and Townshend,
oppose each other ; and at Eichmond there is no crossing
the river. How strange all this must appear to you
Florentines ; but you may turn to your Machiavel and
Guicciardin, and have some idea of it. I am the quietest
man at present in the whole island ; not but I might take
some part, if I would. I was in my garden yesterday,
seeing my servants lop some trees ; my brewer walked in
and pressed me to go to Guildhall for the nomination of
members for the county. I replied, calmly, ' Sir, when
64 To Sir Horace Mann [i774
I would go no more to my own election, you may be very
sure I will go to that of nobody else.' My old tune is,
Suave mart magna iurbantibus aequora ventis, &c.
Adieu !
P.S. Arlington Street, 7th.
I am just come to town, and find your letter, with the
notification of Lord Cowper's marriage * ; I recollect that
I ought to be sorry for it, as you will probably lose an old
friend. The approaching death of the Pope" will be an
event of no consequence. That old mummery is near its
conclusion, at least as a political object. The history of
the latter Popes will be no more read than that of the
last Corstantinopolitan Emperors. Wilkes is a more con-
spicuous personage in modern story than the Pontifex
Maximus of Eome. The poll for Lord Mayor ended last
night; he and his late mayor had above 1,900 votes, and
their antagonists not 1,500. It is strange that the more he
is opposed, the more he succeeds !
I don't know whether Sir W. Duncan's marriage proved
Platonic or not ; but I cannot believe that a lady of great
birth ", and greater pride, quarrels with her family, to marry
a Scotch physician for Platonic love, which she might
enjoy without marriage. I remember an admirable bon mot
of George Selwyn ; who said, ' How often Lady Mary will
repeat, with Macbeth, "Wake Duncan with thy knocking
— would thou couldst ! " '
* The third Eaxl Cowper married ' Caement XIV.
at Florence on June 2, 1775, Anne, ^ Lady Mary Tufton, sister of the
daughter of Charles Gore, of Horke- Earl of Thanet. Walpole,
stowe, Lincolnshire.
1774] To the Bev. William Mason 65
1566. To THE Eev. "William Cole.
Dear Sie, Strawberry Hill, Oct. 11, 1774.
I answer yours immediately, as one pays a shilling to
clench a bargain, when one suspects the seller. I accept
your visit in the last week of this month, and will prosecute
you if you do not execute.
I have nothing to say about elections, but that I con-
gratulate myself every time I feel I have nothing to do
with them. By my nephew's strange conduct about his
boroughs, and by many other reasons, I doubt whether
he is so well as he seemed to Dr. Bemardiston — it is
a subject I do not love to talk on, but I know I tremble
every time the bell rings at my gate at an unusual hour.
Have you seen Mr. Granger's Supplement ^ ? Methinks
it grows too diffuse. I have hinted to him that fewer
panegyrics from funeral sermons would not hurt it.
Adieu ! Yours ever,
H. W.
1567. To THE Eev. William Mason.
I HAVE not imitated your silence from irony, but con-
venience, — not from want of forgiveness, but of matter. In
a time of general elections I have no more ideas than in
Newmarket season, when everybody is talking of matches
and bets. I do not know who has been distanced, or
thrown, or won a cup. I have only observed in the papers,
that Lord John has been hard run, though he has got the
plate ' ; and as the race was at York, I suppose you was on
the course. The new senate, they tell me, will be a curious
Lettek 1566. — 1 To his Biographi- Notes and Queries, April 14, 1900.)
cal History. ' Lord John Cavendish was re-
Lettbr 1567 Misplaced by C turned as member for the City of
amongst letters of Sept. 1774. (See York on Oct. 10, 1774.
WALPOLE. IX -U
66 To the Bev. William Mason [i774
assemblage of patricians and plebeians and knights — of the
post. An old-clothesman, who, George Selwyn says, certainly-
stood for Monmouth, was a candidate, but unsuccessful.
Bob'', formerly a waiter at White's, was set up by my
nephew for two boroughs, and actually is returned for Castle
Eising with Mr. Wedderburn ;
Servus curru portatur eodem ;
which I suppose will offend the Scottish consul, as much
as his countrymen resent an Irishman ' standing for West-
minster, which the former reckon a borough of their own.
For my part, waiter for waiter, I see little difiference ; they
are all equally ready to cry, ' Coming, coming, Sir.'
I have heard nothing but what you tell me of Johnson's
detection*, nor shall believe it till I see it. I have been
likewise told that Macpherson is to publish the papers of
James II, and detect Sir John Dalrymple. Credat Judams !
Is that house so divided against itself? I should have as
soon believed Lord Mansfield had been to Paris for materials
to prove the Assassination Plot. Really, Mr. Mason, you
people who live in the country are strangely credulous !
We are ignorant enough at Twickenham, mais point jusqu'a
ce point-la.
Your Life may as well have patience a little longer still.
If it comes out in the midst of contested elections, flatter
yourself as much as you will, no soul will read it. Alas,
Sir ! the history of a dead poet will make no more impres-
sion now than the battle of Agincourt. If you can tell us
any news of the assembly of the colonies, we shall listen to
you with avidity. If you have any private intelligence that
Boston is levelled to the ground, and sown with salt, better
' Eobert Maoreth, afterwards * An expression of disbelief in the
knighted. genuineness of Ossian in Johnson's
' Hervey Eedmond Morres (d. Journey to the Western Islea of Scot-
1797), second Viscount Mountmorres. land, published in 1776.
1774] To the Countess of Upper Ossory 67
and better ; but, dear Sir, Mr. Gray never set his foot in the
Massachusetts. He and Pindar might sing very pretty
catches for aught we know, but nobody cares about such
things nowadays. You lose your time, indeed you do. The
telhs lettres were in fashion once, and so were fardingales.
But this is a grave nation, and soon grows weary of triiles.
For one while we were mad about commerce, but that
bubble is over too. We have at last found out that fleets
do more good by destroying trade than by protecting it ;
for if we have no trade, we are not vulnerable by an enemy.
Spain enjoys Peru and Mexico by extirpating the inhabitants.
She found that her natives migrated thither. What did she
do ? Laid waste the New World ; and the Spaniards stayed
at home — to be sure ; and we are going to be as wise. I
wish you would turn your mind to these things as I do.
There is some good in fathoming the arcana of Government,
but poetry and writing lives is an occupation only fit for
a schoolboy, —
Non sic fortis Etru/ria crevit,
Seilicet et rerum facta est pulcJierrima Soma.
No, she conquered the world and plundered her provinces,
and then was blest with those demigods, Caligula, Domitian,
and Heliogabalus, who were always sent to heaven as soon
as they were ripe for it. Adieu !
1568. To THE Countess of Upper Ossoey.
strawberry Hill, Oct. 15, 1774.
Why, Madam, you are a Proteus in petticoats, and every
day appear in some new character ! Three days ago you
was setting out ambassadress to Spain : to-day you are
agent for Mr. Ongley', and carrying a county election.
liBTTER 1568. — ' Eobert Henley-Ongley, M.P. for Bedfordshire; cr. {July
30, 1776) Baron Ongley, of Old Warden in Ireland; d. 1785.
F 2
68 To the Countess of Upper Ossory [i774
Next week I suppose you will set out for Eome and make
a Pope. I am sorry to put you in mind of an old observa-
tion, that they who attempt everything seldom are at
the head of anything. You will not be the most con-
spicuous of ambassadresses, unless you go in your own right,
as the Marechale de Guebriant was sent to Poland without
her husband. You will not be the first of electresses, unless
you sit on the hustings like the Duchess of Northumber-
land. As to going to Madrid without Lord Ossory, you
would not dislike it, if it was only to disappoint me of
a son and heir ; but let me see you in the porch of Bedford
church, clapping Tom and Jack on the back, and tossing up
a diamond cap in a huzza ! Seriously, I should be very
unhappy if I believed in your embassy, but as we were
assured of it on creditable authority I was very little frightened,
besides some private reasons of my own for doubting. It
iwas not from your Ladyship's silence. The corps diplo-
matique, I know, keep secrets even after they have been in
^;he Gazette, and were I impertinent enough to ask the
question, to be sure you would answer like the Tuscan
Envoy on Cromwell's death, 'Some say we are to go to
Spain, some say we are not ; for my part, I believe neither
one nor t'other.'
You ask me. Madam, what I am doing ? As I have no
public character nor am tied to any mystery, I can answer
very explicitly, what I generally am doing, laughing at
everybody else. I have escaped the two things I hate and
dread the most, Parliament and the gout ; the first, as
I told you in my last, might have happened now, in spite of
my teeth, if my nephew had continued as bad as he was ;
the last I feared I should have had before this time, but
my recJconinff was out last night, and I have now great con-
fidence in the bootikins for keeping it off.
I sing lo Paean to Apollo, as god of medicine, for putting
1774] To the Hon. Henry Seymour Conway 69
off both my nephew's fit and mine, and give a loose to my
spirits by diverting myself with all you who are over head
and ears in elections, while I am enjoying the sunshine of
October, and see even the horse-chestnuts in full leaf; but
I beg your Ladyship's pardon, what care you what a man
does who has not a freehold in the world ?
What an insignificant being ! and the old fool pretends
to be happy ! I own it is very insolent at fifty-eight to be
even contented ; but what can I do. Madam ? If I had any
misfortunes, I should consider how short a time they could
last ; and the gout itself, about which I own I am no stoic,
must be cured, or deliver me for ever. Not that I am like
poor Lord Holland, and wish to die. I like life extremely,
if I hold it on no worse terms. I am not likely to play
the fool myself, and one may trust that there are enough
that will, to keep one in diversion. It is all the ill-will
I have to the world j and as I have too much sense to
think of curing anybody, I hope it is a very innocent
amusement to sit in my own room and smile, — I mean for
anybody but a Spanish ambassadress. What diiliculty
I should have, if I lived to your return, to compose my
face to becoming gravity ; and if I heard you ring and order
your majordomo to call Lady Anne's duenna ! I would
try to behave as properly as if you made me
Your Excellency's, &c., &c.,
The Goveknoe op Bakataeia.
1569. To THE Hon. Henby Seymoub Conway.
strawberry Hill, Sunday, Oct. 16, 1774.
I EEOEivED this morning your letter of the 6th from
Strasburg ; and before you get this you will have had three
from me by Lady AUesbury. One of them should have
reached you much sooner; but Lady Ailesbury kept it,
70 To the Hon. Henry Seymour Conway [i774
not being sure where you was. It was in answer to one in
which you told me an anecdote, which in this last you ask
if I had received.
Your letters are always so welcome to me, that you
certainly have no occasion for excusing what you say or do
not say. Your details amuse me, and so would what you
suppress ; for, though I have no military genius or curiosity,
whatever relates to yourself must interest me. The honours
you have received, though I have so little taste for such
things myself, gave me great satisfaction ; and I do not
know whether there is not more pleasure in not being
a prophet in one's own country, when one is almost re-
ceived like Mahomet in eveiy other. To be an idol at home
is no assured touchstone of merit. Stocks and stones have
been adored in fifty regions, but do not bear transplanting.
The Apollo Belvidere and the Hercules Farnese may
lose their temples, but never lose their estimation, by
travelling.
Elections, you may be sure, are the only topic here at
present — I mean in England — not on this quiet hill, where
I think of them as little as of the spot where the battle of
Blenheim was fought. They say there will not be much
alteration, but the Phoenix will rise from its ashes with
most of its old plumes, or as bright. Wilkes at first seemed
to carry all before him, besides having obtained the
mayoralty of London at last. Lady Hertford told me
last Sunday that he would cany twelve members. I have
not been in town since, nor know anything but what
I collect from the papers ; so, if my letter is opened,
M. de Vergennes' will not amass any very authentic
intelligence from my dispatches.
What I have taken notice of is as follows : for the City
Wilkes will have but three members : he will lose Crosby,
Letter 1569. — ' The Comte de Vergennes, Minister for Foreign Affairs.
1774] To the Hon. Henry Seymour Conway 71
and Townsend will carry Oliver. In Westminster, Wilkes
will not have one; his Humphrey Cotes is by far the
lowest on the poll ; Lord Percy and Lord T. Clinton are
triumphant there. Her Grace of Northumberland sits at
a window in Covent Garden, harangues the mob, and is
' Hail, fellow, well met ! ' At Dover, Wilkes has carried
one, and probably will come in for Middlesex ° himself with
Glynn. There have been great endeavours to oppose him,
but to no purpose. Of this I am glad, for I do not love
a mob so near as Brentford ; especially as my road lies
through it. Where he has any other interest I am too
ignorant in these matters to tell you. Lord John Cavendish
is opposed at York, and at the beginning of the poll had the
fewest numbers. Charles Fox, like the Ghost in Hamlet,
has shifted to many quarters ; but in most the cock crew,
and he walked off'. In Southwark there has been out-
rageous rioting ; but I neither know the candidates *, their
connections, nor success. This, perhaps, will appear a great
deal of news at Paris: here, I dare to say, my butcher
knows more.
I can teU you still less of America. There are two or
three more ships with forces going thither, and Sir William
Draper as second in command.
Of private news, except that Dyson has had a stroke
of palsy and will die \ there is certainly none ; for I saw
that shrill Morning Post, Lady Greenwich, two hours ago,
and she did not know a paragraph.
1 forgot to mention to you M. de Maurepas. He was by
far the ablest and most agreeable man I knew at Paris :
and if you stay, I think I could take the liberty of giving
you a letter to him ; though, as he is now so great a man,
2 Wilkes was returned for Mid- * The members elected were Na-
dlesex on Oct. 20, 1774. thaniel PolhiU and Henry Thrale.
' He was returned for Malmesbury. » Dyson lived till 1776.
72 To the Son. Henry Seymour Conway [1774
and I remain so little an one, I don't know whether it
would be quite so proper — though he was exceedingly good
to me, and pressed me often to make him a visit in the
country. But Lord Stormont" can certainly carry you to
him — a better passport.
There was one of my letters on which I wish to hear
from you. There are always English coming from Paris,
who would bring such a parcel : at least, you might send
me one volume at a time, and the rest afterwards : but
I should not care to have them ventured by the common
conveyance. Madame du Deffand is negotiating for an
enamel picture' for me ; but, if she obtains it, I had rather
wait for it till you come. The books I mean are those
I told you Lady Ailesbury and Mrs. Darner would give you
a particular account of, for they know my mind exactly.
Don't reproach me with not meeting you at Paris. Eecollect
what I suffered this time two years ; and, if you can have
any notion of fear, imagine my dread of torture for five
months and a half ! When all the quiet of Strawberry did
but just carry me through it, could I support it in the
noise of a French hotel ! and, what would be still worse,
exposed to receive all visits ? for the French, you know, are
i' never .more in public than in the act of death. I am like
i' animals, and love to hide myself when I am dying. Thank
God, I am now two days beyond the crisis when I expected
my dreadful periodic visitant, and begin to grow very
sanguine about the virtue of the bootikins. I shall even
have courage to go to-morrow to Chalfont for two days, as
it is but a journey of two hours. I would not be a day's
« English Ambassador in Paris. vendre oe portrait en ^mail, par
' 'J'oubllais de vons dire qne Petitot, de Madame d'Olonne? En
Hariette est mort ; jo me suis d6j4 oe oas, il faut me dire quel prix
informfie (mais sans succfes) o^ Ton vous y voulez mettre.' (Madame du
pourrait trouver ses hSritiera ; si je Deffand to Horace Walpole, Sept.
I'apprends, dSsirez-vous que je fasse 20, 1774.)
demander s'ils consentiraient ii
1774] To Sir Horace Mann 73
journey from hence for all Lord Olive's diamonds. This
will satisfy you. I doubt Madame du Deffand is not so
easily convinced : therefore, pray do not drop a hint before
her of blaming me for not meeting you ; rather assure her
you are persuaded it would have been too great a risk for
me at this season. I wish to have her quite clear of my
attachment to her ; but that I do not always find so easy.
You, I am sure, will find her all zeal and empressement for
you and yours. Adieu !
1570. To SiE HoBACE Mann.
strawberry Hill, Oct. 22, 1774.
Though I have been writing two letters, of four sides
each, one of which I enclose, I must answer your two last,
if my fingers will move ; and talk to you on the contents of
the enclosed.
If the Jesuits have precipitated the Pope's death', as seems
more than probable, they have acted more by the spirit of
their order, than by its good sense. Great crimes may raise 1
a growing cause, but seldom retard the fall of a sinking one.
This I take to be almost an infallible maxim. Great crimes, \
too, provoke more than they terrify ; and there is no poisoning ]
all that are provoked, and all that are terrified ; who alter-
nately provoke and terrify each other, till common danger
produces common security. The Bourbon monarchs will be
both angry and frightened, the Cardinals frightened. It will
be the interest of both not to revive an order that bullies
with arsenic in its sleeve. The poisoned host will destroy
the Jesuits, as well as the Pope : and perhaps the Church of
Rome will fall by a wafer, as it rose by it ; for such an edifice
will tumble when once the crack has begun.
Lbtteb 1570. — 1 Benedict XIV, Gangauelli. Walpole,— Not Beoediot, but
Clement, XIV.
74 To Sir Horace Mann [i774
Our elections are almost over. Wilkes has taken possession
of Middlesex without an enemy appearing against him ; and,
being as puissant a monarch as Henry the Eighth, and as
little scrupulous, should, like him, date his acts From our
Palace of Bridewell, in the tenth year of our reign. He has,
however, met with a heroine to stem the tide of his con-
quests ; who, though not of Arc, nor a pucelle, is a true
Joan in spirit, style, and manners. This is her Grace of
Northumberland ', who has carried the mob of Westminster
from him ; sitting daily in the midst of Covent Garden ;
and will elect her son " and Lord Thomas Clinton *, against
Wilkes's two candidates, Lord Mahon" and Lord Mount-
morris. She puts me in mind of what Charles the Second
said of a foolish preacher, who was very popular in his
parish: 'I suppose his nonsense suits their nonsense.'
Elections naturally bring me to the subject of the enclosed,
which you must read, seal, and deliver to Lady 0. You will
see how her distrust of me, and what she thought cunning,
has fallen on herself. I have not told her so, because I would
not make mischief, but her agent Sharpe has been still more
to blame. When she pretended to approve all I said, but
would not do anything I advised, on the contrary promised
one of her seats to Sir William Hamilton, and offered another
to Sharpe for his nephew, he on his side was wishing to sell
both, but I prevented it ; which he took so ill, that he would
not assist me in preventing her son from letting a farm on
her jointure to a jockey, nor would even send me an answer.
Now all their ingenuity has fallen on themselves ; he, after
a sUence of many months, has sent me a letter lamenting
my Lord's conduct — I suppose meaning to lay the blame on
me, who would have hindered it, if he and his mistress had
2 Lady Elizabeth Seymour. Wal- Newcastle. Walpole,
pole. 6 Only son of Earl Stauhope.
3 Earl Percy. Walpole. Walpole,
* Second son of Henry, Duke of
1774] To Sir Horace Mann 75
not prevented my meddling. I have very plainly, though
in very civil terms, told him my mind. I have not told it
to her on him, and have only hinted at her own misjudged
address - cunning people always blunder by supposing no-
body has any sense but themselves. I have, however, given
her very good advice, which she will not take. I cannot
help it ; it was right for me to give it.
I have told her too my resolution of never undertaking
the burden again. I have had plenty of reasons, and few
thanks for all I did and suffered — but in one word, I could
now do no good. The boroughs are gone, and the farms
are let. He is frantic in his conduct, and cunning in his
behaviour ; I will give you a strong instance of both ;
Macreth is evidence of the first ; and of the second, his
excusing himself by saying he supposes Macreth " had lent
his mother money. Do not tell her this. I have concealed
from her, too, that Macreth is not to expect to be repaid till
her death. One must make the best of everything, but it is
shocking to see the worst.
Let me sweeten my letter by making you smile. A Quaker
has been at Versailles ; and wanted to see the Comtes de
Provence and d'Artois dine in public, but would not submit
to pull off his hat. The Princes were told of it ; and not
only admitted him with his beaver on, but made him sit
down and dine with them. Was not it very sensible and
good-humoured ? You and I know one who would not
have been so gracious : I do not mean my nephew Lord
Cholmondeley '. Adieu ! I am tired to death.
P.S. I have seen the Duchess of Beaufort " ; who sings
fi Eobert Macreth. He had been Lady Orford,who knew nothing of it,
a waiter at White's. Lord Orford, had borrowed the money. Walpole.
having borrowed money of him, "^ He means the Duke of Glou-
brought him into Parliament for his cester. Walpole.
borough of Castle Bising; and, to * Elizabeth, daughter of John
excuse it, pretended that his mother, Berkeley, of Stoke Gifford, Glouces-
76 To the Countess of Upper Ossory [i774
your praises quite in a tune I like. Her manner is much
unpinioned to what it was, though her person remains as
stately as ever ; and powder is vastly preferable to those
brown hairs, of whose preservation she was so fond. I am
not so struck with the beauty of Lady Mary " as I was three
years ago. Your nephew. Sir Horace, I see by the papers,
is come into Parliament " : I am glad of it. Is not he yet
arrived at Florence ?
Pray deliver my letter instead of sending it. I should
like to know her first sensations on reading it, before she
has time to determine how she will feel upon it.
1571. To THE Countess op Upper Ossoey.
strawberry Hill, Get. 27, 1774.
Don't be angry, dear lady ! I did not mean any offence to
your conjugal zeal. I always knew you could fill any part
you please, and could carry a county election as easy as a
prize at a ball. When I compared you to the Duchess of
Charing Cross, as the newspapers call her, was it possible
you should think I saw any resemblance ? If you took it
for a sneer, she must have taken it for a compliment, which
I doubt she would not do. Your troubles, I hope, are over
and crowned with victory ; mine are so, if you do not go to
Madrid.
I know nothing, for I will not know the only thing that
is to be known, elections. I am very ignorant who is chosen
for my Lord Orford's boroughs. As he is so perfectly in his
senses, I suppose he has brought in some men of quality or
great speakers, or that some minister has recommended to
tershire ; m. (1740) Lord Charles daughter of Charles Noel, Duke of
Noel Somerset, who succeeded his Beaufort. She was afterwards mar-
brother as fourth Duke of Beaufort ried to the Duke of Rutland. Walipole.
in 1746. 10 ^g member for Maidstone.
' Lady Mary Somerset, youngest
1774] To the Countess of Upper Ossory 77
him an intimate friend, who will give credit to the recom-
mender, and be useful to my Lord himself. Had he remained
out of order, somebody or other might have taken advantage
of his weakness, and imposed somebody upon him that would
disgrace him ; but as he is so weU, I am easy. I do not
desire the little vanity of having everybody say, that if I
had had the management of his affairs, he would not have
been exposed ; nor could any man, surely, who wished me
ill, make such a blunder as to give me that triumph !
Have you heard, Madam, of the Quaker that has dined
with the Comtes de Provence and d'Artois ? It is exactly
true. He would not pull off his hat ; they admitted him
with it on, and then made him sit down to table with them.
Charles II could not have been better humoured.
They say the late Pope was poisoned by the Jesuits.
These gentlemen and the Czarina will repoison many royal
personages that Voltaire had unpoisoned ; and as he has
both abused and praised the Jesuits, he may take which
side he pleases, as he has done about eveiy other ques-
tion.
In the neighbouring city of Twickenham they talk of
nothing but houses broken open and robbed. I have called
my militia into my castle, and mounted cannon on the battle-
ments. Yet I was more afraid of a contested election for
Middlesex ; and when it was threatened, I thought I would
not be the Duke of Northumberland's fine gate at Sion for
the world. In short, one lives in very perilous times ! The
powder mills blow one up, and break all one's painted glass ;
one is robbed on the highway, though one is Prime Minister \
and shot at into the bargain. I don't know what we shall
come to. Madam ; pray, do you ? And pray, don't you think
it is all that Wilkes's doing? Everybody would be good,
and honest, and quiet, if it was not for him. Lady Greenwich
Letteb 1571. — ^> See letter to Manu of Oct. 6, 1771,
78 To the Hon. Henry Seymour Conway [i774
and I think so, and we hope you are of our opinion ; and
wonder some Christian don't murder him.
1573. To THE Hon. Henby Seymoue Conway.
strawberry Hill, Oct. 29, 1774.
I HAVE received your letter of the 23rd, and it certainly
overpays me, when you thank instead of scolding me, as
I feared. A passionate man has very little merit in being
in a passion, and is sure of saying many things he repents,
as I do. I only hope you think that I could not be so much
in the wrong for everybody ; nor should have been, perhaps,
even for you, if I had not been certain I was the only person,
at that moment, that could serve you essentially : and at such
a crisis, I am sure I should take exactly the same part again,
except in saying some things I did, of which I am ashamed ' !
I will say no more now on that topic, nor on anything relating
to it, because I have written my mind very fully, and you
will know it soon. I can only tell you now, that I approve
extremely your way of thinking, and hope you will not
change it before you hear from me, and know some material
circumstances. You and Lady Ailesbury and I agree exactly,
and she and I certainly consider only you. I do not answer
her last, because I could not help telling you how very kindly
I take your letter. All I beg is, that you would have no
delicacy about my serving you any way. You know it is
a pleasure to me : anybody else may have views that would
embarrass you ; and, therefore, till you are on the spot, and
can judge for yourself (which I always insist on, because you
are cooler than I, and because, though I have no interests to
serve, I have passions, which equally mislead one), it will
Letter 1572. — ' Horace Walpole failure to ensure General Conway's
had had a violent quarrel with Lord return at the general election. (See
Hertford on account of the latter's Last JoumaU, vol. i. pp. 401-17.)
1774] To the non. Henry Seymour Conway 79
be wiser to decline all kind of proposals and offers. You
will avoid the plague of contested elections and solicitations :
and I see no reasons, at present, that can tempt you to be
in a hurry.
You must not expect to be Madame du Deffand's first
favourite. Lady Ailesbury has made such a progress there,
that you will not easily supplant her. I have received
volumes in her praise. You have a better chance with
Madame de Cambis ', who is very agreeable ; and I hope
you are not such an English husband as not to conform to
the manners of Paris while you are there.
1 forgot to mention one or two of my favourite objects to
Lady Ailesbury ; nay, I am not sure she will taste one of
them, the church of the Celestines. It is crowded with
beautiful old tombs: one of Francis II whose beatitude is
presumed from his being husband of the martyr Mary
Stuart. Another is of the first wife' of John Duke of
Bedford, the Eegent of France. I think you was once
there with me formerly. The other is Richelieu's tomb,
at the Sorbonne — but that everybody is carried to see.
The Hotel de Carnavalet *, near the Place Eoyale, is worth
looking at, even for the facade, as you drive by. But of
all earthly things the most worth seeing is the house at
Versailles, where the King's pictures, not hung up, are
kept. There is a treasure past belief, though in sad order,
and piled one against another. Monsieur de Guerchy once
carried me thither ; and you may certainly get leave. At
the Luxembourg are some hung up, and one particularly is
worth going to see alone : it is the ' Deluge ' by Nicol6
Poussin, as winter. The three other seasons are good for
2 Gabrielle Charlotte Fran^oise ' Anne (d. 1132), daughter of Jean
de Chimai, daughter of Alexandre sans Penr, Duke of Burgundy.
Gabriel d'Alsace Hennin LiStard, * Where Madame de S6vign6 re-
Prince de Chimai, and wife of Jac- sided. Walpole.
qnes Francois, Vioomte de Cambis.
80 To the Hon. Henry Seymour Conway [i774
nothing ; but the ' Deluge ' is the first picture in the world
of its kind. You will be shocked to see the glorious pictures
at the Palais Eoyal transplanted to new canvases, and new
painted and varnished, as if they were to be scenes at the
Opera — at least, they had treated half a dozen of the best so,
three years ago, and were going on. The Prince of Monaco
has a few fine, but still worse used ; one of them shines
more than a looking-glass. I fear the exposition of pictures
is over for this year ; it is generally very diverting °. I, who
went into every church of Paris, can assure you there are
few worth it, but the Invalides— except the scenery at
St. Eoche, about one or two o'clock at noon, when the sun
shines ; the Carmelites, for the Guide and the portrait of
Madame de la ValUfere as a Magdalen ; the Val de Grace \
for a moment ; the treasure at Notre Dame ; the Sainte
Chapelle, where in the ante-chapel are two very large
enamelled portraits ; the tomb of Cond6 at the Great Jesuits
in the Eue St. Antoide, if not shut up ; and the little church
of St. Louis in the Louvre, where is a fine tomb of Cardinal
Fleury, but large enough to stand on Salisbury Plain. One
thing some of you must remember, as you return ; nay, it is
better to go soon to St. Denis, and Madame du Defifand must
get you a particular order to be shown (which is never shown
without) the effigies of the kings. They are in presses over
the treasure which is shown, and where is the glorious
antique cameo-cup ; but the countenance of Charles IX is
so horrid and remarkable, you would think he had died on
the morrow of the St. Barthelemi, and waked full of the
recollection. If you love enamels and exquisite medals, get
to see the collection of a Monsieur d'Henery, who lives in
the corner of the street where Sir John Lambert ' lives —
^ He means from their extreme ' Sir John Lambert, third Baronet,
bad taste. Walpole. a banker in Paris ; d. 1799.
^ A Benedictine convent.
1774] To the Countess of Ailesbury 81
I forget its name. There is an old man behind the Eue de
Colombier, who has a great but bad collection of old French
portraits ; I delighted in them, but perhaps you would not.
I, you may be sure, hunted out everything of that sort. The
convent and collection of St. Germain, I mean that over
against the Hotel du Pare Eoyal, is well worth seeing —
but I forget names strangely — Oh, delightful ! — Lord
Cholmondeley sends me word he goes to Paris on Monday:
I shall send this and my other letter by him. It was him
I meant ; I knew he was going, and had prepared it.
Pray take care to lock up your papers in a strong box,
that nobody can open. They imagine you are at Paris on
some commission, and there is no trusting French hotels
or servants. America is in a desperate situation. The
accounts from the Congress are not expected before the
10th, and expected very warm. I have not time to tell
you some manoeuvres against them that will make your
blood curdle. Write to me when you can by private hands,
as I wiU to you. There are always English passing back-
wards and forwards.
1573. To THE Countess of Ailesbuey.
strawberry Hill, Nov. 7, 1774.
I HAVE written such tomes to Mr. Conway ^, Madam, and
have so nothing new to write, that I might as well, me-
thinks, begin and end Hke the lady to her husband : ' Je
vous ecris parce que je n'ai rien a faire : je finis parce que
je n'ai rien a vous dire.' Yes, 1 have two complaints to
make, one of your Ladyship, the other of myself. You
tell me nothing of Lady Harriet*: have you no tongue.
Letter 1573. — ^ Mr, Conway and 2 Lady Harriet Stanhope, after-
Lady Ailesbury were now at Paris wards married to Lord Foley. Wal-
together. Walpole. pole.
WALPOLE. IX Ci
82 To the Countess of Ailesbury [i774
or the French no eyes? or are her eyes employed in
nothing but seeing? "What a vulgar employment for
a fine woman's eyes after she is risen from her toilet !
I declare I will ask no more questions — what is it to me,
whether she is admired or not? I should know how
charming she is, though all Europe were blind. I hope
I am not to be told by any barbarous nation upon earth
what beauty and grace are !
For myself, I am guilty of the gout in my elbow ; the
left — witness my handwriting. Whether I caught cold by
the deluge in the night, or whether the bootikins, like the
water of Styx, can only preserve the parts they surround,
I doubt they have saved me but three weeks, for so long
my reckoning has been out. However, as I feel nothing in
my feet, I flatter myself that this Pindaric transition will
not be a regular ode, but a fragment, the more valuable for
being imperfect.
Now for my Gazette. — Marriages — Nothing done. In-
trigues — More in the political than civil way. Births —
Under par since Lady Berkeley left off breeding. Gaming
■ — Low water. Deaths — Lord Morton ', Lord Wentwoiih *,
Duchess Douglas*. Election stock — More buyers than
sellers. Promotions — Mr. Wilkes as high as he can go. —
Apropos, he was told Lord Chancellor ^ intended to signify
to him that the King did not approve the City's choice :
he replied, ' Then I shall signify to his Lordship, that I am
at least as fit to be Lord Mayor as he to be Lord Chan-
cellor.' This being more gospel than everything Mr.
Wilkes says, the formal approbation was given.
Mr. Burke has succeeded in Bristol, and Sir James
Peachey' will miscarry in Sussex. But what care you,
= Sholto Charles Douglas (1732- " Margaret Douglas, -widow of the
1774), fifteenth Earl of Morton. first Duke of Douglas.
* Ed-ward Noel, first Viscount « Lord Apsley.
Went-worth. ' Sir James Peaohey (1723-1808),
1774] To the Countess of Ailesbury 83
Madam, about our Parliament ? You will see the rentree
of the old one % with songs and epigrams into the bargain.
We do not shift our Parliaments with so much gaiety.
Money in one hand, and abuse in t'other — those are all the
arts we know. Wit and a gamut I don't believe ever
signified a Parliament, whatever the glossaries may say ; for
they never produce pleasantry and harmony. Perhaps you
may not taste this Saxon pun, but I know it will make the
Antiquarian Society die with laughing.
Expectation hangs on America. The result of the general
assembly" is expected in four or five days. If one may
believe the papers, which one should not believe, the other-
side-of-the-waterists are not doux comme des moutons, and yet
we do intend to eat them. I was in town on Monday ; the
Duchess of Beaufort graced our loo, and made it as rantipole
as a Quaker's meeting. Loois Quinze '", I believe, is arrived
by this time, but I fear without quinze louis.
Your herb-snuff and the four glasses are lying in my
warehouse, but I can hear of no ship going to Paris. You
are now at Fontainbleau, but not thinking of Francis I,
the Queen of Sweden^', and Monaldeschi. It is terrible
that one cannot go to courts that are gone ! You have
supped with the Chevalier de Boufflers": did he act every-
thing in the world, and sing everything in the world, and
laugh at everything in the world ? Has Madame de Cambis
sung to you Sans depit, sans legerete " ? Has Lord Cholmon-
deley delivered my packet? I hear I have hopes of
Madame d'Olonne ^'. Gout or no gout, I shall be little in
fourth Baronet, or. (Aug. 13, 1794) 1^ Stanislas (1737-181B), Marquis,
Baron Selsey, of Selaey in Sussex. better known as the Chevalier, de
* The French Parliament. BoufSers. He became a member of
' A General Congress sat at Phila- the French Academy in 1788.
delphia from Sept. 5 to Oct. 29, 1774, '^ The first words of a favourite
to which twelve of the colonies sent French air. Walpole,
delegates. '■* The enamel portrait mentioned
1° Probably Lady Powis. in the letter to Conway of Sept. 28,
" Christina, Queen of Sweden. 1774.
G 2
84 To Sir Horace Mann [i774
town till after Christmas. My elbow makes me bless
myself that I am not at Paris. Old age is no such uncom-
fortable thing, if one gives oneself up to it with a good
grace, and don't drag it about
To midnight dances and the public show.
If one stays quietly in one's own house in the country,
and cares for nothing but oneself, scolds one's servants,
condemns everything that is new, and recollects how
charming a thousand things were formerly that were very
disagreeable, one gets over the winters very well, and the
summers get over themselves.
1574. To SiE Horace Mann.
strawberry Hill, Nov. 11, 1774
I ENTIRELY approve all you say about your nephew ; and
yet my affection for you and Gal's memorj' is so great, and
I was so pleased with the young man last year, that I don't
know how to help wishing that he had gone to you, as
I think you would have liked him, unless he is like my
nephew, engaging when with one, provoking when absent.
I really thought him on his road to Florence ; but as I see
by the newspapers that he is chosen into Parliament,
I suppose he was not set out, or turned back on the disso-
lution. I cannot inquire without making a visit in my
neighbourhood, which I never do make, but when abso-
lutely necessary, for I know our agreement is less risked
by absence than by meeting. I will say no more on the
subject. I can trust to your good sense and good temper
for always doing precisely what is right.
I have so very little to tell you, that I almost think
I shall detain this letter till another post. Every day may
bring us critical news from America, which will give the
1774] To Sir Horace Mann 85
chief colour to the winter. I am in perfect ignorance of
the situation of affairs there. I live quietly here, uncon-
nected with all factions, enjoying the delightful place
I have made, and even enjoying my old age, since the gout
keeps away. The bitterness of the last fit, succeeded by
my stewardship, gives a flavour to my tranquillity that,
perhaps, I should not taste so much, if I had not lost it for
near a year and a half. I propose to be little absent
hence tUl after Christmas, a longer stay than I ever made
in the country ; but what can I see in London that I have
not seen fifty times over ? There is a new race, indeed, but
does it promise to make the times more agreeable ? Does
the world talk of our orators, poets, or wits ? Oh, no ! It
talks of vast fortunes made, or vast fortunes lost at play !
It talks of Wilkes at the top of the wheel, and of Charles
Fox at the bottom : all between is a blank.
It ia not much better anywhere else. The King of
Prussia, the hero of the last war, has only been a pick-
pocket in Poland. The Austrian and Eussian eagles have
turned vultures, and preyed on desolated campaigns. The
Turkish war ended one don't know how without any signal
action. France has been making Parliaments cross over
and figure-in, and yet without the scene being at all
amusing. For my part, I take Europe to be worn out. }
When Voltaire dies, we may say, ' Good night ! ' I don't r>
believe this age will be more read than the Byzantine his- \
torians.
The bigamist Duchess ' is likely to become a real peeress
at last. Lord Bristol '^ has been struck with a palsy that
has taken away the use of all his limbs. If he dies, and
Augustus should take a fancy to marry again, as two or
Letter 1574, — ^ Eliz. Chudleigli, Hervey, was living. Walpole.
married to the Duke of Kingston, ^ George William, second Earl of
thongli her husband, Augustus Bristol. Walpole;
86 To Sir Horace Mann [l774
three years ago he had a mind to do, his next brother, the
Bishop', may happen to assist the Duke of Kingston's
relations with additional proofs of the first marriage. They
now think they shall be able to intercept the receipt of the
Duke's estate ; but law is a horrid liar, and I never believe
a word it says before the decision.
Nov. 14th.
There are advices from America that are said to be ex-
tremely bad: I don't know the particulars; but I have
never augured well of that dispute ! I fear we neither know
how to proceed or retreat ! I believe this is the case with
many individuals, as well as with the public. Within this
week we have had two deaths out of the common course.
Bradshaw \ a man well known of late, but in a more silent
way than for his fame to have reached you, shot himself
yesterday se'nnight. His beginning was very obscure ;
when he grew more known, it was not to his honour. He
has since been a very active minister, of the second or third
class, and more trusted, perhaps, than some of a higher
class. Instead of making a great fortune, he had spent one,
and could not go on a week longer. The Duke of Athol ^
is dead as suddenly ; drowned certainly ; whether delirious
from a fever or from some disappointment, is not clear. Two
evenings ago Lord Berkeley shot a highwayman * ; in short,
frenzy is at work from top to bottom, and I doubt we shall
' Frederic Hervey, Bishop of trader, " after all your boasts, as
Derry, who became Earl of Bristol I hear, that you would never let
after his brothers George and An- yourself be robbed ! " — " Nor would
gustus. Walpole. I now," said Lord Berkeley, putting
* Secretary of the Treasury. Wal- his hand into his pocket, aa though
pole. to draw forth his purse, "but for
5 John Murray, third Duke of that other fellow peeping over your
Athol shoulder." The highwayman hastily
* ' Lord Berkeley, travelling after turned round to look at this unex-
dark on Hounslow Heath, was pected intruder, when the Earl,
wakened from a slumber by a strange pulling out instead of a purse a
face at his carriage window and a pistol, shot him dead upon the spot.'
loaded pistol at his breast. " I have (Stanhope, History of England^ ed.
you now, my Lord," said the in- 18B3-4, vol. vii. p. 313.)
1774] To the Earl of Strafford 87
not be cool till there has been a good deal of blood let.
You and I shall, probably, not see the subsiding of the
storm, if the humours do boil over ; and can a nation
be in a high fever without a crisis ? I see the patients ;
I do not see the doctors. Adieu !
1575. To THE Eael of Steapfoed.
strawberry Hill, Nov. 11, 1774-
I AM sorry there is still time, my dear Lord, to write to
you again ; and that though there is, I have so little to
amuse you with. One is not much nearer news for being
within ten miles of London than if in Yorkshire ; and
besides, whatever reaches us, Lady Greenwich catches at
the rebound before me, and sends you before I can. Our
own circle furnishes very little. Dowagers are good for
propagating news when planted, but have done with send-
ing forth suckers. Lady Blandford's coffee-house is removed
to town, and the Duchess of Newcastle's is little frequented,
but by your sister Anne^, Lady Browne, and me. This
morning, indeed, I was at a very fine concert at old Frank's
at Isleworth, and heard Leoni, who pleased me more than
anything I have heard these hundred years. There is a
full melancholy melody in his voice, though a falsetta, that
nothing but a natural voice ever compasses. Then he sung
songs of Handel in the genuine simple style, and did not
put one in pain like rope-dancers. Of the Opera I hear
a dismal account ; for I did not go to it to sit in our box
like an old king dowager by myself. Garrick is treating
the town, as it deserves and likes to be treated, with scenes,
fireworks, and his own writing. A good new play I never
expect to see more, nor have seen since The Provoked
Husband, which came out when I was at school.
Lettee 1575. — ' Lady Anne Conolly.
88 To Isaac Reed [i774
Bradshaw is dead, they say by his own hand : I don't
know wherefore. I was told it was a great political event.
If it is, our politics run as low as our plays. From town
I heard that Lord Bristol was taken speechless with a
stroke of the palsy. If he dies. Madam Chudleigh must
be tried by her peers, as she is certainly either Duchess or
Countess. Mr. Conway and his company are so pleased
with Paris, that they talk of staying till Christmas. I am
glad ; for they will certainly be better diverted there than
here.
Your Lordship's most faithful servant,
Hoe. Walpole.
1576. To Isaac Eeed^
strawberry Hill, Nov. 13, 1774.
Though you have not been so good as to let me know to
whom I am so much obliged '^, yet I am very glad you have
given me an opportunity at least of thanking you. Had
I sooner known how, I should have saved you some trouble,
as several of the notices you have sent me had already come
to my knowledge, and are actually inserted in a new edition
of my Catalogue ', which has been long printed, though
from some other reasons not yet published. Indeed, Sir,
I am ashamed that you should have thrown away so much
time upon a work that deserved it so little, and which
I am sorry I cannot now make more perfect by your
assistance, it being printed with other trifles of my own,
and, consequently, I should be obliged to throw away the
whole edition if I altered it ; and that is too late to do at
my time of life, subject as I am to long confinements from
Letter 1576. — ^ Isaac Reed (1742- to be left at tbe Chapter Coffee-
1807), tie editor of Shakespeare. house, London,'
2 According to Cnnningham the ^ The Catalogue of Engravers.
letter was addressed to 'Mr. I. E.,
1774] To the Hon. Henry Seymour Conway 89
the gout ; a reflection that has made me give over all
thoughts of troubling the public any more, vs^hich has been
too indulgent to me already.
If you were inclined to be still more kind to me, it
■would be by letting me have the pleasure of knowing to
whom I am so much indebted. I shall not be in town
to stay, probably, till after Christmas, and then should be
very glad to wait on you or to see you in Arlington Street,
to assure you how much I am, Sir,
Your obliged and obedient humble servant,
HoE. Walpole.
1577. To THE Hon. Henry Setmoue Conway.
Strawberry Hill, Nov. 12, 1774.
I HAVE received a delightful letter from you of four
sheets, and another since. I shall not reply to the cam-
paigning part (though much obliged to you for it), because
I have twenty other subjects more pressing to talk of.
The first is to thank you for your excessive goodness to my
dear old friend ' — she has some indiscretions, and you must
not have any to her; but she has the best heart in the
world, and I am happy, at her great age, that she has
spirits enough not to be always upon her guard. A bad
heart, especially after long experience, is but too apt to
overflow inivardly with prudence. At least, as I am but
too like her, and have corrected too few of my faults,
I would fain persuade myself that some of them flow from
a good principle — but I have not time to talk of myself,
though you are much too partial to me, and give me an
opportunity ; yet I shall not take it.
Now for English news, and then your letter again. There
has been a great mortality here ; though Death has rather
Letter 1577. — ^ Madame du Deffand.
90 To the lion. Henry Seymour Conway [1774
been prie than a volunteer. Bradshaw (as I told Lady
Aylesbury last post) shot himself. He is dead, totally
undone. Whether that alone was the cause, or whether
he had not done something worse, I doubt. I cannot
conceive that, with his resources, he should have been
hopeless — and, to suspect him of delicacy, impossible !
A ship is arrived from America, and I doubt with very
bad news ; for none but trifling letters have yet been given
out — but I am here, see nobody that knows anything, and
only hear by accident from people that drop in. The sloop
that is to bring the result of the general assembly is not
yet come. There are indeed rumours, that both the non-
importation and even non-exportation have been decreed',
and that the flame is universal. I hope this is exaggerated !
yet I am told the stocks will fall very much in a day
or two.
I have nothing to tell Lady Aylesbury, but that I hear
a deplorable account of the Opera. There is a new puppet-
show at Drury Lane, as fine as scenes can make it, called
Tlie Maid of the Oaks ', and as dull as the author could
not help making it.
Except M. d'Herouville *, I know all the people you name.
C. I doubt, by things I have heard formerly, may have been
a concussionnaire. The Duke, your protecteur^, is mediocre
enough ; you would have been more pleased with his wife.
2 * During their sittings in the was originally acted at The Oaks,
autumn of 1774 the Congress passed Epsom, on the occasion of the mar-
resolutions to suspend all imports, riage of Lord Stanley (Burgoyne's
or use of imports, from Great Britain nephew by marriage) to Lady Betty
or Ireland, or any of their depen- Hamilton.
dancies, after the first day of * Antoine Eicouart (d. 1782),
December next, and all exports to Comte d'Herouville de Claye, a
those countries after the lOth of Sep- military writer,
tember in the year ensuing, unless ^ The Duode la Valitoe ;' of whom
American grievances should be re- Mr. Conway had said that when
dressed before that time.* (Stanhope, presented to him his reception was
Bistory of England, ed. 1853-4, vol. what might be called good, but
vi. p. 16.) rather de protection. Berry.
* By Colonel John Burgoyne. It
1774] To the Hon. Henry Seymour Conway 91
The Chevalier's^ hon mot is excellent, and so is he. He has
as much houffomierie as the Italians, with more wit and
novelty. His impromptu verses often admirable. Get
Madame du Deffand to show you his embassy to the
Princess Christine', and his verses on his eldest uncle,
beginning Si Monsieur de Veaii^ His second uncle has
8 The Chevalier de Boufflers.
' The Princess Christina of
Saxony, Abbess of Bemiremont. On
the death of her father, the King of
Poland, the Chevalier was sent to
her with a message of condolence
from the ex-King Stanislaus Lec-
zinski, to whose household the
Chevalier at that time belonged.
On his return M. de Boufflers ob-
tained leave to write the account of
his embassy, which he did in verse.
In order to understand the song ' it
should be known that the Princess
was very plaia, and had very full
cheeks, that the Chevalier had one
side of his face much swelled at the
time, and that he was allowed for
his trouble only the expense of the
post-horses.'
Micit du Voyage.
* Enyvr6 du brillant poste,
Que j'occupe main tenant,
Bans une chaise de poste,
Je me campe fiferement ;
Et je vais, en Ambassade,
Au nom de mon Souverain,
Dire, que je suis malade,
Et que Luy se porta bieu.
Avec une joue enfl.6e,
Je dfibarque tout honteux ;
La Princesse boursouffl6e,
Au lieu d'une, en avait deux,
Et son Altesse Sauvage
Sans doute a trouv6 mauvais,
Que j'ensse sur mon visage
La moiti6 de ses attraits.'
CompliTttent de VAmbassadeur,
' Princesse, le Boi mon maitre
Pour Ambassadeur m'a pris ;
Je viens vous faire connaitre
Les feux dont il est 6pris :
Quand vous seriez sous le chaumo,
n donnerait (m'a-t-il dit)
La moitiS de son royaume
Pour celle de votre lit.'
R4cit.
' La Princesse k son pupitre
Compose un remerclment,
Puis, me remet une fipitre,
Que j'emporte lestement.
Et je m'en vais dans la rue
Fort satisfait d'ajouter
A I'honneur de I'avoir vue
Le plaisir de la quitter.
Bans ces beaux lieux en reven-
ant,
Je quitte I'Excellence ;
Et je re9ois, pour traitement,
Cent-vingt livres de France.'
(JKemoiT'Sof Laetitia MatUda Hawkins,
1824, vol. ii. pp. 208-9.)
8 The impromptu in question was
prompted by the contrast between
the beauty of the Due de Beauvau
and the plainness of M. de Vaux,
coUeague of the Due in the house-
hold of the ex-King Stanislaus. It
runs as follows : —
' Si Monsieur de Vaux
Etait un peu plus beau,
Que Monsieur de Beauvau
FClt un peu moins beau ;
Ce Monsieur de Vaux
Serait un beau veau,
Et Monsieur de Beauvau
Ne serait plus qu'un veau.
Mes parentes
Et mes tantes
Seraient un troupeau
Bes Nymphes I 0.
Si Monsieur, &g.
Puis on les bouillirait.
Puis on les rStirait ;
En blanquettes,
En croquettes.
92 To the Hon. Henry Seymour Conway [1774
parts, but they are not so natural. Madame de Caraman '
is a very good kind of woman, but has not a quarter of her
sister's parts. Madame de Mirepoix is the agreeable woman
of the world when she pleases— but there must not be a
card in the room. Lord " has acted like himself ; that
is, unlike anybody else. You know, I believe, that I think
him a very good speaker ; but I have little opinion of his
judgement and knowledge of the world, and a great opinion
of his affectation and insincerity. The Abbe Eaynal, though
he wrote that fine work on the Commerce des Deux Indes, is
the most tiresome creature in the world. The first time
I met him was at the dull Baron d'Olbach's: we were
twelve at table : I dreaded opening my mouth in Trench,
before so many people and so many servants : he began
questioning me, 'cross the table, about our colonies, which
I understand as I do Coptic. I made him signs I was
deaf. After dinner he found I was not, and never forgave
me. Mademoiselle de Eaucoux^' I never saw till you told
me Madame du Deffand said she was demoniague sans chaleurl
What painting ! I see her now. Le Kain sometimes pleased
me, oftener not. Mole " is charming in genteel or in
pathetic comedy, and would be fine in tragedy, if he was
stronger. Pr6ville " is always perfection. I like his wife
in affected parts, though not animated enough. There was
a delightful woman who did the Lady Wishforts, I don't
know if there still, I think her name Mademoiselle Drouin^*;
and a fat woman, rather elderly, who sometimes acted the
On les servirait, who was in Paris in the autumn of
On les mangerait. 1774.
Si Monsieur,' &o. i' Fran^oise Clairien Raucourt
{Memoirs, as above, vol. u. p. 211.) (1753-1815).
9 Anne Gabrielle de Chiroai, i^ yranpois BenS Kol£ (1734-
danghter of Alexandre Gabriel 1802).
d' Alsace Hennin Li^tard, Prince de '^ pierre Lonis Dubns, known as
Chimai, and wife of the Comte de Pr^vUle (1721-1799).
Caraman. Her sister was the Vi- '* Marie Michelle AngSlique
oomtesse de Cambis. Drouin (1731-1794), was in fact Pr§.
1" Apparently Lord Shelburne, ville's wife.
1774] To the Hon. Henry Seymour Conway 93
soulrette. But you have missed the Dumenil, and Caillaut" !
What irreparable losses! Madame du Deffand, perhaps—
I don't know — could obtain your hearing the Clairon — yet
the Dumenil was infinitely preferable.
I could now almost find in my heart to laugh at you for
liking Boutin's garden ". Do you know that I drew a plan
of it, as the completest absurdity I ever saw ? What !
a river that wriggles at right angles through a stone gutter,
with two tansy puddings that were dug out of it, and three
or four beds in a row, by a corner of the wall, with samples
of grass, corn, and of en friclie, like a tailor's paper of
patterns ! And you like this ! I will tell Park Place —
Oh, I had forgot your audience in dumb-show — Well, as
Madame de Sevigne said, 'Le Eoi de Prusse, c'est le plus
grand Eoi du monde' still". My love to the old Parlia-
ment ; I don't love new ones.
I went several times to Madame de Monconseil's, who is
just what you say. Mesdames de Tingri et de la Vauguion"
I never saw: Madame de Noailles once or twice, and enough.
You say something of Madame Mallet, which I could not
read ; for, by the way, your brother and I agree that you
are grown not to write legibly: is that lady in being?
1' Joseph Caillot (1732-1816), a. may be sure I was well received,
celebrated performer in ItaJian the French are so polite ! and their
comedy. He retired in 1772. court so poUshed ! — The Emperor
^^ See another ludicrous descrip- indeed talked to me every day ; so
tion of this garden in a letter to did the King of Prussia regularly
Mr, Chute. Walpole. — ^The letter of and much ; but this was not to be
August 5, 1771; that to the Coun- compared to the extraordinary recep-
tess of Ossory of Aug. 11, 1771, con- tion of his Most Christian Majesty,
tains a plan of the garden. who, when I was presented, did not
1'^ Miss Berry notes that this stop, nor look to see what sort of an
alludes to G-eneral Conway's presen- animal was offered to his notice,
tation to Louis XVI at Fontaine- but carried his head, as it seemed,
bleau, of which, in his letter to Mr. somewhat higher, and passed his
Walpole, he gives the following ao- way.'
count: — ' On St. Hubert's day in the ''Marie Fran9oise de B^thune-
moming I had the honour of being Charost, daughter of the Due de
presented to the King ; 'twas a good Bdthune ; m. (1734) the Due de la
day and an excellent deed. You Vauguyon.
94 To the Hon. Henry Seymour Conway [1774
I knew her formerly. Madame de Blot" I know, and
Monsieur de Paulmy ^^ I know ; but for Heaven's sake who
is Colonel Conway^'? Mademoiselle Sanadon is la sana
donna, and not Mademoiselle Celadon^^, as you call her.
Pray assure my good Monsieur Schouvaloff of my great
regard : he is one of the best of beings.
I have said all I could, at least all I should. I reserve the
rest of my paper for a postscript ; for this is but Saturday,
and my letter cannot depart till Tuesday : but I could not
for one minute defer answering your charming volumes,
which interest me so much. I grieve for Lady Harriet's ^^
swelled face, and wish for both their sakes she could transfer
it to her father. I assure her I meant nothing by desiring
you to see the verses to the Princess Christine, wherein
there is very profane mention of a pair of swelled cheeks.
I hear nothing of Madame d'Olonne "*- Oh, make Madame
du Deffand show you the sweet portrait of Madame de Prie,
the Duke of Bourbon's mistress "'. Have you seen Madame
de Monaco, and the remains of Madame de Brionne ? It
you wish to see Mrs. A , ask for the Princesse de Ligne.
If you have seen Monsieur de Maurepas, you have seen the
late Lord Hardwicke ''\ By your not naming him, I suppose
the Due de Nivernois is not at Paris. Say a great deal for
1^ Marie Cfioile Pauline d'Ennerie, ** The beautiful miniature of
wife of Gilbert de Chavigui, Baron Madame d'Olonne, now at Straw-
de Blot. berry Hill. Walpole.
20 Marc Antoine Kend Le Voyer 25 This portrait is now at Straw-
(1722-1787), Marquis de Paulmy, berry Hill. Walpole. — Agnfes Ber-
son of the Marquis d'Argenson, thelot de Pleneuf{d. 1727), Marquise
sometime Minister for Foreign de Prie, mistress of the Due de
Affairs. Bourbon, who became Prime Minis-
21 An ofBoer in the French service. ter on the death of the Eegent
Walpole. Orleans, and who was disgraced in
22 Mademoiselle Sanadon, a lady 1726. At the same time the Mar-
who lived with Madame du Deffand. quise de Prie was exiled to Nor-
Walpole, mandy, where she committed suicide
2' Lady Harriet Stanhope, after- by poison in the following year,
wards married to Lord Foley, was 26 jje means from their personal
at this time at Paris with her father resemblance. Walpole.
the Earl of Harrington. Walpole,
1774] To the Countess of Upper Ossory 95
me to M. de Guisnes. You will not see my passion, the
Duchess de Chatillon ". If you see Madame de Nivernois,
you will think the Duke of Newcastle is come to life again.
Alas ! where is my postscript ? Adieu !
1578. To THE Countess of Uppee Ossoey.
strawberry Hill, Nov. 14, 1774.
I SHOULD not have been silent so long, Madam, had I had
anything agreeable to tell you ; but really the times are so
melancholy, that I do not care to trouble my friends with
my gloomy reflections. I do not indeed know what is the
matter, nor what I am so grieved about, but still as long as
I see that
There is something rotten in the state of Denmark,
I am too good a patriot or courtier, which is the same thing,
not to have my bosom full of cares and anxiety.
Portents and prodigies have grown so frequent
That they have lost their name.
I cannot say that the Thames has run backwards or
overflown Richmond Hill, that the stars drop out of their
sockets, that I have heard wolves howl at noonday, or that
the churchyard has given up its dead to frighten people into
their senses, instead of out of them, as ghosts one should
think would do, if one did not know the contrary from the
best authorities. Still indubitably the times are out of
joint, and one must despair of the commonwealth, when
Marcus Fortius Bradshaw falls by his own hand, and Scotch
dukes fall into horse-ponds as they are taking a walk in a
fine November evening ; but I will not fill your Ladyship's
mind with the apprehensions that these omens have raised
in mine ; I will quit the subject, and answer yoiu" letter.
27 So in the printed editions, but read Chatelet.
96 To the Countess of Upper Ossory [1774
You do me a great deal too much honour in suspecting
me of writing a speech for the new senator. All the good
things in that speech were George Selwyn's, and have been
repeated in every coifee-house in town these three weeks ;
and though I am sorry my nephew's madness has exposed
him to the dirty malice of anybody that had too little
generosity not to take advantage of it, I should not have
been the person certainly to joke on such an occasion,
divert the town at the expense of so near a relation, to
whom I trust I have shown very different attention. Mad-
ness is an excuse for my nephew ; they who make a friend
of Macreth without being out of their senses have I suppose
very good or very bad reasons for it.
Don't imagine, Madam, that I shall congratulate you on
the sale of your house, at least not till I hear you have
bought another. I still less can compliment you on Lord
Ossory's ilinging away so much money on an election, and
not for himself, who was sure of his own seat. However,
I do not deny but there was a greatness of mind in it, at
least gratitude, considering the many favours he has re-
ceived, and that he is the only one of his connection that
has received any.
I am not settled in Arlington Street, nor shall be tUl
after Christmas, Madam. I grow so old, that I find the
quiet composed life I lead here more agreeable than the
ways of London, and the same eternal round of the very
same things. I am making catalogues of my collection,
buUding a hothouse, ranging my medals which I have
brought hither, sorting and burning papers, in short, setting
my house in order against a certain time that happens but
once in one's life, and which one has not time to think
of in town. I have consequently not seen Armida nor
Mrs. Abingdon's coiffure, which I conclude consists of as
many plumes as the helmet of Otranto. The only time
1774] To the Countess of Upper Ossory 97
I saw Lady Mary Somerset she had moulted her feathers,
and wore a hat over her nose, so I only fell in love with
her chin. The measles I had in the last century, and as it
is one of the juvenile attributes that one does not cut a
second time, like one's colt's tooth and a caper, I shall take
care not to appear in public till the fashion is over, that
I may be cense to be confined with a red face instead of
a very pale one. I rejoice for Lady Louisa's sake that the
measles leave no marks: she will lose nothing by a fort-
night's eclipse. The only new thing I know is that I have
heard Leoni, and don't remember that I ever was so pleased
with a voice since you were born ; and yet he was hoarse,
by an accident which the Jews don't quite prevent.
1579. To THE Countess of Upper Ossoby.
Arlington Street, Nov. 23, 1774.
I AM in town, Madam, and in great distress. I have lost
a most faithful friend and servant, my deputy Mr. TuUie^,
and as I am a Soi Faineant, I know not how to conduct my
own affairs. One's first thought you may be sure is to send
for Lord Chatham, but as I have difficulties enough, I don't
want to be helped into more ; and therefore I shall leave
that resource to my heir-apparent, Mr. Martin, and only
consult my friends. It is some comfort to me that Mr.
TuUie did not die en ministre, but in his bed. The nation
had another great loss last night : Lord Clive went o£f
suddenly. He had been sent for to town by one of his
Indian friends — and died. You may imagine. Madam, all
that is said already. In short, people wUl be forced to die
before as many witnesses as an old queen is brought to bed,
or the coroner will be sent for.
liXTTKB 1679. — ' Joseph TuUie, Deputy Usher of the Exchequer.
WALFOLE. IX H
98 To Sir Horace Mann [l774
Have you got the History of the Troubadours ? It is very
curious: I have longed for it several years, and yet am
cruelly disappointed. St. Palaye was too old to put his
materials together ; his friends called ' Odd man ! ' and
: nothing was ever so dully executed. You will say of the
j chapters, as I did of the houses at Paris, there is such a
isameness, that one does not know whether one is in that
lone is in, or in that one came out of.
Lord H. has just been here, and told me the manner of
Lord Olive's death. Whatever had happened, it had flung
him into convulsions, to which he was very subject. Dr.
Fothergill gave him, as he had done on like occasions, a
dose of laudanum, but the pain in his bowels was so violent,
that he asked for a second dose. Dr. Fothergill said, if he
took another, he would be dead in an hour. The moment
Fothergill was gone, he swallowed another, for another it
seems stood by him, and he is dead.
I am very sorry to hear Lord Holland is so ill. Does not
Lord Ossory come to renew his senatorial dignity ?
1580. To Sir Hoeace Mann.
strawberry Hill, Nov. 24, 1774.
I THANK you, my dear Sir, for your news of the Oonclave
and of the Duchess* and her ship-load of plunder. If
the captain carries it off, it will be but an episode well
suited to the history. I shall like a continuation of both
subjects.
As you only say that you mentioned a certain election to
the Oountess", I conclude you had not yet received my
letter for her. The interlude of Macreth has given so
much offence, that, after having run the gauntlet, he has
Lkttkk 1B80. — 1 The Duchess of ' Countess Orford, living »t
Kingston. Walpole. Florence. Walpole.
1774] To Sir Horace Mann 99
been persuaded to be modest and give up his seat '. I should
not say give, but sell it. I do not believe the buyer will be
much more creditable ; but, happily, I am free from all this
disgraceful transaction.
I have informed myself from Mr. Croft about your
nephew ; he and his wife are in the south of France and
are to winter there, but will make you a visit in the spring
before their return. However, as they probably will not
stay long, forgive me if I say I think you had better lodge
them. Will it be difficult with your temper to be patient
and complying ; and to Gal's son ! I am persuaded you
will like him ; and when he sees an uncle so like his father
in all goodness, can it but make impression on him ? And
if you can effect the least good is it not worth your while ?
The wife's family too demands attention.
A great event happened two days ago — a political and
moral event ; the sudden death of that second Kouli Khan,
Lord Clive. There was certainly illness in the case; the
world thinks more than illness. His constitution was ex-
ceedingly broken and disordered, and grown subject to
violent pains and convulsions. He came unexpectedly to
town last Monday, and they say, Ul. On Tuesday his
physician gave him a dose of laudanum, which had not
the desired effect. On the rest, there are two stories ; one,
that the physician repeated the dose ; the other, that he
doubled it himself, contrary to advice. In short, he has
terminated at fifty a life of so much glory, reproach, art,
wealth, and ostentation ! He had just named ten members
for the new Parliament.
Next Tuesday that Parliament is to meet — and a deep
game it has to play ! few Parliaments a greater. The
world is in amaze here that no account is arrived from
America of the result of their General Congress — if any
'. Macreth did not retire.
H 2
100 To Sir Horace Mann [i774
is come it is very secret ; and that has no favourable aspect.
The combination and spirit there seem to be universal, and
is very alarming. I am the humble servant of events, and
you know never meddle with prophecy. It would be difScult
to descry good omens, be the issue what it will.
The old French Parliament is restored with great dclat
Monsieur de Maurepas, author of the revolution, was
received one night at the Opera with boundless shouts
of applause. It is even said that the mob intended,
when the King should go to hold the lit de justice, to
draw his coach. How singular it would be if WUkes's
case should be copied for a King of France ! Do you
think Rousseau was in the right, when he said that he
could tell what would be the manners of any capital city,
from certain given lights? I don't know what he may
do on Constantinople and Pekin— but Paris and London !
I don't believe Voltaire likes these changes. I have seen
nothing of his writing for many months; not even on
the poisoning Jesuits *. For our part, I repeat it, we shall
contribute nothing to the Histoire des Mceurs, not for want
of materials, but for want of writers. We have comedies
without novelty, gross satires without stings, metaphysical
eloquence, and antiquarians that discover nothing.
Boeofum in crasso jurares acre natos!
Don't tell me I am grown old and peevish and supercilious
— name the geniuses of 1774, and I submit. The next
Augustan age will dawn on the other side of the Atlantic.
There will, perhaps, be a Thucydides at Boston, a Xenophon
at New York, and, in time, a Virgil at Mexico, and a Newton
at Peru. At last, some curious traveller from Lima will
visit England and give a description of the ruins of St. Paul's,
like the editions of Balbec and Palmyra; but am I not
* They poisoned Pope Gangauelli. WalpoU.
1774] To Sir Horace Mann 101
prophesying, contrary to my consummate prudence, and
casting horoscopes of empires like Eousseau ? Yes ; well,
I will go and dream of my visions.
29th.
P.S. Maoreth ay ant hu sa honte is determined to continue
a member, like the rest of the world. The Ecclesiastical
Court, I hear, has decided, and will pronounce, that the
person commonly called Duchess of Kingston is a certain
Mrs. Hervey. The new Lord Holland" is dead — stay;
you must not belie-ve a word I tell you. Truth in this
climate won't keep sweet four-and-twenty hours. Lord
Bristol says nothing can be done against the Duchess of
Kingston.
The Parliament opened just now — they say the speech
talks of the rebellion ° of the province of Massachusetts ; but
if they-say tells a lie, I wash my hands of it. As your
gazetteer, I am obliged to send you all news, true or false.
I have believed and unbelieved everything I have heard
since I came to town. Lord Clive has died every death in
the parish register ; at present it is most fashionable to
believe he cut his throat. That he is dead, is certain ; so is
Lord Holland — and so is not the Bishop of Worcester ' ;
however, to show you that I am at least as well informed as
greater personages, the bishopric was on Saturday given to
Lord North's brother" — so for once the Irishman was in the
right, and a pigeon, at least a dove, can be in two places at
once.
6 Stephen Fox, second Lord Hoi- 1820), second son of first Earl of
land. Walpole. Guilford by hia second wife, and
fi This was not the case. half-brother of Lord North ; Bishop
7 James Johnson, Bishop of Wor- of Lichfield, 1771-74, ; of Worcester,
cester, died on Not. 26, 1774. 1774-81 ; of Winchester, 1781-1820.
8 Hon. Brownlow North (1741-
102 To the Hon. Henry Seymour Conway [1774
1581. To THE Hon. Heney Seymoue Conway.
Arlington Street, Nov. 27, 1774.
I HAVE received your delightful plump packet with a
letter of six pages, one from Madame du Deffand, the
^loges^, and the lit de justice. Now, observe my gratitude :
I appoint you my resident at Paris ; but you are not to
resemble all our ministers abroad, and expect to live at
home, which would destroy my Lord Castlecomer's view in
your staying at Paris. However, to prove to you that
I have some gratitude that is not totally selfish, I will tell
you what little news I know, before I answer your letter ;
for English news, to be sure, is the most agreeable circum-
stance in a letter from England.
On my coming to town yesterday, there was nothing but
more deaths — don't you think we have the plague? The
Bishop of Worcester, Lord Breadalbane", Lord Strathmore'.
The first fell from his horse, or with his horse, at Bath, and
the bishopric was incontinently given to Bishop North.
America is still more refractory, and I doubt wiU outvote
the ministry. They have picked General Gage's pocket of
three pieces of cannon, and intercepted some troops that
were going to him. Sir William Draper is writing plans of
pacification in our newspapers ; and Lord Chatham flatters
himself that he shall be sent for when the patient is given
over ; which I don't think at all unlikely to happen. My
poor nephew* is very political too: so we shall not want
mad-doctors. Apropos, I hear Wilkes says he will propose
Macreth for Speaker.
The Ecclesiastical Court are come to a resolution that the
Letter 1681. — ' Of La Foutaine, ' This was a false report,
by Chamfort and La Harpe. * George Walpole, Earl of Orford.
* Lord Breadalbane lived antil Walpole,
1782.
1774] To the Hon. Henry Seymour Conway 103
Duchess of Kingston is Mrs. Hervey ; and the sentence will
be public in a fortnight. It is not so certain that she will
lose the estate. Augustus * is not in a much more pleasant
predicament than she is. I saw Lord Bristol last night : he
looks perfectly well, but his speech is much affected, and his
right hand.
Lady Lyttelton, who, you know, never hears anything
that has happened, wrote to me two days ago, to ask if it
would not be necessary for you to come over for the meeting
of the Parliament. I answered, very gravely, that to be
sure you ought : but though Sir James Morgan threatened
you loudly with a petition, yet, as it could not be heard till
after Christmas, I was afraid you would not be persuaded to
come sooner. I hope she will inquire who Sir James
Morgan is, and that people wiU persuade her she has made
a confusion about Sir James Peachy. Now for your letter.
I have been in the Chambre de Parlement, I think they
call it the Grande Chambre ; and was shown the corner in
which the monarchs sit, and do not wonder you did not
guess where it was they sat. It is just like the dark corner,
under the window, where I always sat in the House of
Commons. What has happened has passed exactly according
to my ideas. When one King breaks one Parliament, and
another another, what can the result be but despotism ''?
or of what else is it a proof? If a Tory king displaces his
father's Whig Lord Chamberlain, neither Lord Chamberlain
has the more or the less power over the theatres and court
mournings and Birthday balls. All that can arrive is, that
the people will be still more attached to the old Parliament,
from this seeming restitution of a right — but the people
^ Augustus Hervey, to whom she own supreme authority, and warned
was first married. Walpole. the members of the Parliament
6 At a lit de justice held on the againstinterferenceinmatterswhioh
occasion of the restoration of the might bring them into collision with
Parliament of Paris, Louis XVI pro- the royal power,
uounced strongly in favour of his
104 To the Hon. Henry Seymour Conway [l774
must have some power before their attachment can signify
a straw. The old Parliament, too, may some time or other
give itself more airs on this confession of right; but that
too cannot be but in a minority, or when the power of the
crown is lessened by reasons that have nothing to do with
the Parliament. I will answer for it, they will be too
grateful to give umbrage to their restorer. Indeed, I did
not think the people would be so quick-sighted at once, as
to see the distinction of old and new was without a difference.
Methinks France and England are like the land and the sea ;
one gets a little sense when the other loses it.
I am quite satisfied with all you tell me about my friend '.
My intention is certainly to see her again, if I am able ; but
I am too old to lay plans, especially when it depends on the
despot gout to register or cancel them. It is even melancholy
to see her, when it will probably be but once more ; and
still more melancholy, when we ought to say to one another,
in a different sense from the common, au revoir ! However,
as mine is a pretty cheerful kind of philosophy, I think the
best way is to think of dying, but to talk and act as if one
was not to die ; or else one tires other people, and dies
before one's time. I have truly all the affection and attach-
ment for her that she deserves from me, or I should not be
so very thankful as I am for your kindness to her. The
Choiseuls will certainly return at Christmas, and will make
her life much more agreeable. The Duchess has as much
attention to her as I could have ; but that will not keep me
from making her a visit.
I have only seen, not known, the younger Madame de
Boufflers'*. For her musical talents, I am little worthy of
them — yet I am just going to Lady Bingham's to hear the
Bastardella ", whom, though the first singer in Italy,
■^ Madame du DefEaud. harpist.
' AmSlie D^salenrs, Comtease de ^ Luorezia Agujari (d. 1783), so
Boufflers. She was an aooomplished called in allusion to her birth.
1774] To the Hon. Henry Seymour Conway 105
Mrs. Yates " could not or would not agree with " ; and
she is to have twelve hundred pounds for singing twelve
times at the Pantheon, where, if she had a voice as loud
as Lord Clare's, she could not be heard. The two Ions mots
you sent me are excellent ; but, alas ! I had heard them
both before ; consequently your own, which is very good
too, pleased me much more. M. de Stainville " I think you
will not like: he has sense, but has a dry military harshness,
that at least did not suit me— and then I hate his barbarity
to his wife *'.
You was very lucky indeed to get one of the sixty
tickets'*. Upon the whole, your travels have been very
fortunate, and the few mortifications amply compensated.
If a Duke '° has been spiteful when your back was turned,
a Hero-King " has been all courtesy. If another King " has
been silent, an Emperor" has been singularly gracious.
Frowns or silence may happen to anybody : the smiles have
been addressed to you particularly. So was the ducal frown
indeed — but would you have earned a smile at the price set
on it? One cannot do right and be always applauded — but
in such cases are not frowns tantamount ?
As my letter wUl not set forth till the day after to-morrow,
I reserve the rest for my additional news, and this time will
reserve it.
St. Parliament's day, 29th, after breakfast.
The Speech is said to be firm, and to talk of the rebellion
of our province of Massachusetts. No sloop is yet arrived
to tell us how to call the rest. Mr. Van " is to move for the
10 Anna Maria Tatea (d. 1787), '* To witness the opening of the
actress ; at this time Joint- Manager restored Parliament.
of the Opera. i^ The Duo de Choiseul.
11 To sing at the Opera. WaZpole. 1' The King of Prussia,
12 The Comte de Choiseul-Stain- " Louis XVI.
ville, brother of the Due de ChoiseuL i^ Joseph II.
13 Upon a suspicion of gallantry, I9 Charles Van, M.P, for Brecon,
she was confined for life. Walpole.
106 To the Ron. Henry Seymour Conway [i774
expulsion of Wilkes ; which will distress, and inay produce
an odd scene. Lord Holland is certainly dead ; the papers
say Eobinson'" too, but that I don't know: — so many deaths
of late make report kill to right and left.
1582. To THE Hon. Henbt Seymour Conway.
Arlington Street, Dee. 15, 1774.
As 1 wrote to Lady Aylesbury but on Tuesday, I should
not have followed it so soon with this, if 1 had nothing to
tell you but of myself. My gouts are never dangerous, and
the shades of them not important. However, to dispatch
this article at once, I wUl tell you that the pain 1 felt
yesterday in my elbow made me think all former pain did
not deserve the name. Happily the torture did not last
above two hours ; and, which is more surprising, it is all
the real pain 1 have felt ; for though my hand has been as
sore as if flayed, and that both feet are lame, the bootikins
demonstrably prevent or extract the sting of it, and I see no
reason not to expect to get out in a fortnight more. Surely,
if I am laid up but one month in two years, instead of five
or six, I have reason to think the bootikins sent from
heaven.
The long-expected sloop is arrived at last, and is, indeed,
a man of war ! The General Congress have voted a non-
importation, a non-exportation, a non-consumption ; that, in
case of hostilities committed by the troops at Boston, the
several provinces wUl march to the assistance of their
countrymen ; that the cargoes of ships now at sea shall be
sold on their arrival, and the money arising thence given to
the poor at Boston ; that a letter, in the nature of a petition
of rights, shall be sent to the King ; another to the House
2" John Bobinson, M.P. for Har- he waa not dead, but wag disabled
wioh and Secretary to the Treasury ; by paralysis.
1774] To Sir Horace Mann 107
of Commons ; a third to the people of England ; a demand of
repeal of all the Acts of Parliament affecting North America
passed during this reign, as also of the Quebec Bill: and
these resolutions not to be altered till such repeal is obtained.
Well, I believe you do not regret being neither in
Parhament nor in administration ! As you are an idle
man, and have nothing else to do, you may sit down and
tell one a remedy for all this. Perhaps you will give
yourself airs, and say you was a prophet, and that prophets
are not honoured in their own country. Yet, if you have
any inspiration about you, I assure you it will be of great
service. We are at our wit's end — which was no great
journey. Oh, you conclude Lord Chatham's crutch will
be supposed a wand, and be sent for. They might as well
send for my crutch ; and they should not have it ; the stile
is a little too high to help them over. His Lordship is
a little fitter for raising a storm than laying one, and of late
seems to have lost both virtues. The Americans at least
have acted like men, gone to the bottom at once, and set the
whole upon the whole. Our conduct has been that of pert
children: we have thrown a pebble at a mastiff, and are
surprised it was not frightened. Now we must be worried
by it, or must kill the guardian of the house, which will be
plundered the moment little master has nothing but the old
nurse to defend it. But I have done with reflections ; you
will be fuller of them than L
1583. To Sra Horace Mann.
Arlington Street, Dec. 23, 1774.
You will perceive by the change of writing that my hand
hath lost its cunning. I had kept off the gout for two
Letter 1583. — Not in 0. J now first printed from transcript in possession
of Earl Waldegrave.
108 To Sir Horace Mann [i774
months by the bootikins, but the mighty has prevailed,
vanquished me and my armour, and bound me hand and
foot above a fortnight. However, the talisman has had so
much virtue that the wounds have not been deep, nor will
the scars, I think, remain long. Yet for these last five days
I have been very ill, less by the gout than by its conse-
quential weakness, which has chiefly affected my breast.
I remember how I used to joke, on your wet-brown-paper-
hood ; alas ! I, who was never of pasteboard, nor had
a title to robust airs, seem now to be of Indian paper — but
I am talking too much of myself, when I am thinking
much more of you. I received a letter from you late last
night that alarmed me. In it you speak of an attack of
gout in terms that frighten me. I was so faint and feverish
then that I could do nothing to help or quiet myself, for
one cannot reason in the night on a painful pillow, so
I lay thinking on you despondingly till six in the morning.
As soon as I waked I sent to Mr. Croft, but he had heard
nothing of you. However, as my head was grown a little
clearer, I called for your letter again, and was rejoiced to
find the date November the 18th, for I recollected that
I had received another from you a fortnight ago whose date
must be later, and so it proved, being of the 22nd. This
last had brought me my Lady's answer, and that of the 1 8th
only mentions your having delivered mine. Now the good
22nd says not a word of your illness continuing, and there-
fore I trust it was gone and forgotten. What the lazy
18th had been doing, or where it had stopped to drink,
I don't know, but I wish it had broken its neck and never
arrived !
I am glad there is an end of the other correspondence
with all its high-flown compliments. The colours, however,
given to the calmness are not strictly exact. The agents
here could not have prevented what has happened, unless
1774] To Sir Horace Mann 109
they had received fuller powers ; and it is to disguise that
very ill-judged and timid policy that the blame is now
laid on the sudden dissolution. However, if people are
so very wise as to dupe themselves, it is no business of
mine, nor shall I think any more about it.
I am so confined and able to see so little company that
it is impossible I should tell you anything more than you
can read in the common newspapers. The new Parliament
has done nothing but common business, and appointed
hearings of contested elections. What it will do after the
holidays, I wish it knew itself! It must be wiser than any
of its predecessors if it can remedy what the two last of
them have done. In short, all North America is in a flame,
and I don't see whatever the future measures shall be, but they
will be new barrels of oil. However, as the quintessence
of the wisdom of the nation does not lie in my head, for
I did not inherit the head in which it once did lie, and
as mine will probably be laid long before these troubles
are at an end, I shall not trouble myself with what I can
neither cure nor expect to see terminated happily.
Lord Chatham's eldest daughter is married to Lord Mahon,
Lord Stanhope's son and a descendant of your old Baileys '
and Binnings, so I make you my compliments, though
I believe you are like me and don't carry on your attach-
ments to third and fourth generations, which are never
so heraldically reciprocal. Pray don't let Gatti " persuade
you into the gout, but if he does, pray submit to it quietly.
You may take out its sting by the bootikins, but if you
resist it, it is such a Proteus, that it will slip into the shape
of a palsy, and be even with you. Adieu ! I am weary,
and must bid you good night,
1 Mr. Bailey, a Soot, who by his Stanhope. Walpole.
wife Griselda was father of Lady ^ Dr. Gatti, a Florentine phy-
Binning, mother of the Earl of sician, who lived long at Faria.
Haddington, and of the Countess of Walpole.
110 To the Hon. Henry Seymour Conway [1774
1584. To THE Hon. Heney Setmoue Conway.
Arlington Street, Dec. 26, 1774.
I BEGIN my letter to-day, to prevent the fatigue of dic-
tating two to-morrow. In the first and best place, I am
very near recovered ; that is, though still a mummy, I have
no pain left, nor scarce any sensation of gout except in
my right hand, which is still in complexion and shape
a lobster's claw. Now, unless anybody can prove to me
that three weeks are longer than five months and a half,
they will hardly convince me that the bootikins are not
a cure for fits of the gout, and a very short cure, though
they cannot prevent it : nor perhaps is it to be wished they
should ; for if the gout prevents everything else, would
not one have something that does ? I have but one single
doubt left about the bootikins, which is, whether they do
not weaken my breast : but as I am sensible that my own
spirits do half the mischief, and that, if I could have held
my tongue, and kept from talking and dictating letters,
I should not have been half so bad as I have been, there
remains but half due to bootikins on the balance : and
surely the ravages of the last long fit, and two years more
in age, ought to make another deduction. Indeed, my
forcing myself to dictate my last letter to you almost killed
me ; and since the gout is not dangerous to me, if I am
kept perfectly quiet, my good old friend ^ must have patience,
and not insist upon letters from me but when it is quite
easy to me to send them. So much for me and my gout.
I will now endeavour to answer such parts of your last
letters as I can in this manner, and considering how difficult
it is to read your writing in a dark room.
Lbttbk 1B81. — 1 Madame du Deffand.
1774] To the Hon. Henry Seymour Conway 111
I have not yet been able to look into the French harangues
you sent me. Voltaire's verses to Eobert Covelle are not
only very bad, but very contemptible.
I am delighted with all the honours you receive, and
with all the amusements they procure you, which is the
best part of honours. For the glorious part, I am always
like the man in Pope's Donne,
Then happy he who shows the tombs, said I''.
That is, they are least troublesome there. The SMnissime °
you met at Montmorency is one of the least to my taste ;
we quarrelled about Rousseau, and I never went near him
after my first journey. Madame du Deffand will tell you
the story, if she has not forgotten it.
It is supposed here that the new proceedings of the
French Parliament will produce great effects : I don't sup-
pose any such thing. "What America will produce I know
still less ; but certainly something very serious. The
merchants have summoned a meeting for the second of
next month, and the petition from the Congress to the
King has arrived. The heads have been shown to Lord
Dartmouth * ; but I hear one of the agents is against
presenting it ; yet it is thought it will be delivered, and
then be ordered to be laid before Parliament. The whole
affair has already been talked of there on the army and
navy days ; and Burke, they say, has shone with amazing
wit and ridicule on the late inactivity of Gage, and his
losing his cannon and straw ; on his being entrenched in
a town with an army of observation ; with that army being,
as Sir William Meredith had said, an asylum for magistrates,
and to secure the port. Burke said he had heard of an
asylum for debtors and whores, never for magistrates ; and
' ' Then happy Man who shows the tombs ! said I.' — Sat. viii. L 102.
' The Prince de Conti. Walpole. * The Colonial Secretary,
112 To the Hon. Henry Seymour Conway [l774
of ships, never of armies, securing a port. This is all there
has been in Parliament but elections. Charles Fox's place
did not come into question. Mr. ^ who is one of the
new elect, has opened, but with no success. There is a
seaman, Luttrell °, that promises much better.
I am glad you like the Duohesse de Lauzun : she is one
of my favourites. The Hotel du Chatelet promised to be
very fine, but was not finished when I was last at Paris.
I was much pleased with the person that slept against
St. Lambert's poem : I wish I had thought of the nostrum,
when Mr. Seward, a thousand years ago, at Lyons, would
read an epic poem to me just as I had received a dozen
letters from England. St. Lambert is a great jackanapes,
and a very tiny genius. I suppose the poem was The
Seasons, which is four fans spun out into a Georgic. If
I had not been too ill, I should have thought of bidding
you hear midnight mass on Christmas Eve in Madame du
Deifand's tribune, as I used to do. To be sure, you know
that her apartment was part of Madame du Montespan's,
whose arms are on the back of the grate in Madame du
Deffand's own bedchamber. Apropos, ask her to show you
Madame de Prie's picture, M. le Due's'' mistress — I am very
fond of it — and make her tell you her history.
I have but two or three words more. Eemember my
parcel of letters from Madame du Deffand, and pray re-
member this injunction, not to ruin yourself in bringing
presents. A very slight fairing of a guinea or two obliges
6 The name is left blank in all " Hon. .Tohn Lnttrell (d. 1829),
the editions. The person in qnes- M.P. for Stookbridge ; third son of
tion -was probably David Hartley first Baron Imham (afterwards
(1732-1813), M.P. for HuU, ' much created Earl of Carhampton) ; took
versed in finances, and friend of the additional name of Olmius,
Lord Eockingham, had written 1787 ; succeeded his brother as third
several political tracts, and was now Earl of Carhampton in 1821.
in Parliament for the first time.' ' The Duo de Bourbon.
(Last Journals, vol. i. p. 436, note.)
1774] To George Augustus Selwyn 113
as much, is more fashionable, and not a moment sooner
forgotten than a magnificent one ; and then you may very
cheaply oblige the more persons ; but as the sick fox in
Gay's Fables says (for one always excepts oneself),
A chicken too might do me good
I allow you to go as far as three or even five guineas for
a snuff-box for me : and then, as ' told the King, when
he asked for the reversion of the lighthouse for two lives,
and the King reproached him with having always advised
him against granting reversions ; he replied, ' Oh, Sir, but
if your Majesty will give me this, I will take care you shall
never give away another.'
Adieu, with my own left hand,
HoK. Walpole.
1585. To Geoege Augustus Selwyn.
Dear Sir, Monday night, 9 o'clock.
I am so much enjoined silence, that it is the more
necessary for me to speak to you. I am utterly incapable
of writing to Paris : I have nobody to write for me, and
am not allowed to dictate above two or three lines. It
would oblige me infinitely if that might be to you, either
at the beginning or end of your letter, if you write to-
morrow. One at noon, or seven in the evening, are the
cleverest hours for me — but I must not choose.
Yours, &c.,
H. W.
8 So in all the editions ; the hero Lettee 1585. — Not in C; reprinted
of the anecdote was George Gren- from George Selwyn and his Contem-
viUe. (See Memoirs of George III, ed. pararies, Tol. iii. p. 89.
1891, vol. ii. p. 146 and note.)
WALPOLE. IX T
114 To tJie Marquise du Deffand [i774
1586. To THE Marquise du Deffand.
De Londres, ce 26 D^oembre, 1774.
Mais que vous etes une drole d'amie ! Vous avez tout
I'air de vous rejouir de ma goutte, car votre premifere idee
est d'en tirer deux lettres par semaine. D'ailleurs vous
oubliez la premiere de toutes les rfegles, qui est, que c'est
le malade qu'on doit manager, et non pas le malade qui
doit menager ceux qui se portent bien ; maxime echappee
h personne depuis Adam, hormis k vous. Voici le fait.
Vendredi j 'avals ete oblige de dieter une grande lettre sur
mes affaires, le moment aprfes arrive votre lettre, ou vous
demandez deux lettres par semaine, I'une pour vous, I'autre
pour mon cousin. Votre lettre d'ailleurs 6tant trfes agr6-
able, je voulais vous complaire sur-le-champ. Mais n'ayant
personne qui sut le franjais, il fallut m'adresser h M. Conway.
Bref, cette fatigue m'^puisa tellement que j'en perdis la
voix, la respiration, et le pouls. Mais abregons. La goutte
ne me fait de mal que quand je m'6puise, et je vous prie
pour la quatrifeme fois de vous en ressouvenir.
Actuellement je me porte h merveille. Les bottines ont
pass6 mon attente de cent piques, et je conipte vous en
envoyer une paire comme un ex-voto pour suspendre dans
votre tribune sur la chapelle. Mon cousin vous dira le reste.
II faut me depecher, car mon secretaire', qui n'est qu'un
visitant, n'a pas du temps de reste.
J'ai envoye ce matin chez le marchand aux emeraudes :
elles sont faites, mais pas polies, et les ouvriers ne veulent
pas les achever qu'aprfes les fetes. Je vous serais trfes oblige
de la nouvelle Ninon, et j'en aurais grande impatience.
Lkttek 1586.— Not in C. ; now first • Apparently Selwyn. See the
printed from original in possession previous letter,
of Mr. W. E. Paxker-Jervis.
1774] To the Hon. Henry Seymour Conway 115
Graces aussi pour le Sucre d'orge, et mille fois plus de graces
pour ]es bonnes nouvelles de Madame d'Olonne". Je vous
prie de dire a Milady Aylesbury, que la meilleure manifere
d'assurer tout ce qu'elle aura achet6 de porcelaines de Sfeve,
e'est de I'envoyer directement k notre douane de Londres,
adress6 h, elle-meme. Je suis trfes press6 de recevoir les
nouvelles de I'arrivee de yos parents et de votre souper.
Ne manquez pas de baiser mille fois la belle petite main
de la belle petite grand'maman de ma part, et si vous
pouvez sans heurter le front, son joli petit pied aussi. Ne
le baisez pas, mais embrassez I'Abb^ aussi. Bonsoir, car je
n'en puis plus, et mon secretaire en est bien aise.
P.S. Je ne compte d'^crire k personne avant aujourd'hui
en huit.
1587. To THE Hon. Henkt Seymour Conway.
Arlington Street, Dee. 31, 1774.
No child v^as ever so delighted to go into breeches, as
I was this morning to get on a pair of cloth shoes as big
as Jack Harris's : this joy may be the spirits of dotage —
but vrhat signifies whence one is happy? Observe, too,
that this is written with my own right hand, with the
bootikin actually upon it, which has no distinction of fingers:
so I no longer see any miracle in Buckinger, who was
famous for writing without hands or feet (as if it was
indifferent which one uses, provided one has a pair of
either). Take notice, I write so much better without
fingers than with, that I advise you to try a bootikin. To
be sure, the operation is a little slower ; but to a prisoner,
the duration of his amusement is of far more consequence
than the vivacity of it.
2 A miniature which Walpole wished to huy.
I 2
116 To the Hon. Henry Seymour Conway [1774
Last night I received your very kind, I might say your
letter tout court, of Christmas Day. By this time I trust
you are quite out of pain about me. My fit has been as
regular as possible ; only, as if the bootikins were post-
horses, it made the grand tour of all my limbs in three
weeks. If it will always use the same expedition, I am
content it should take the journey once in two years. You
must not mind my breast : it was always the weakest part
of a very weak system ; yet did not suffer now by the gout,
but in consequence of it ; and would not have been near
so bad, if I could have kept from talking and dictating
letters. The moment I am out of pain, I am in high
spirits ; and though I never take any medicines, there is
one thing absolutely necessary to be put into my mouth —
a gag. At present, the town is so empty that my tongue
is a sinecure.
1 am well acquainted with the Bibliothfeque du Eoi, and
the medals, and the prints. I spent an entire day in
looking over the English portraits, and kept the librarian
without his dinner till dark night, till I was satisfied.
Though the Choiseuls will not acquaint with you, I hope
their Abbe Barthelemi^ is not put under the same quarantine.
Besides great learning, he has infinite wit and polissormerie,
and is one of the best kind of men in the world. As
to the grandpapa'', il ne nous aime pas nous autres, and
has never forgiven Lord Chatham. Though exceedingly
agreeable himself, I don't think his taste exquisite. Perhaps
I was piqued ; but he seemed to like Wood ' better than
any of us. Indeed, I am a little afraid that my dear friend's
impetuous zeal may have been a little too prompt in pressing
you upon them d'abord: — but don't say a word of this —
LuTTEK 1587. — 1 The author of the ' Robert Wood, formerly Under
Voyage diiJevTie Anacharsis. Walpole. Secretary of State, who lived for
2 A name given to the Due de Choi- some time in France,
senl by Madame dn Deifand. Walpole.
1774] To the Hon. Henry Seymour Conway 117
it is her great goodness. — I thank you a million of times
for all yours to her : — she is perfectly grateful for it. The
Chevalier's' verses are pretty enough. I own I like Saurin's''
much better than you seem to do. Perhaps I am prejudiced
by the curse on the Chancellor" at the end.
Not a word of news here. In a sick room one hears all
there is, but I have not heard even a lie ; but as this will
not set out these three days, it is to be hoped some charitable
Christian will tell a body one. Lately indeed we heard that
the King of Spain had abdicated ; but I believe it was some
stockjobber that had deposed him.
Lord George Cavendish, for my solace in my retirement,
has given me a book, the history of his own Fineness Abbey',
written by a Scotch ex-Jesuit. I cannot say that this un-
natural conjunction of a Cavendish and a Jesuit has pro-
duced a lively colt ; but I found one passage worth any
money. It is an extract of a constable's journal kept during
the civil war ; and ends thus : ' And there was never heard
of such troublesome and distracted times as these five years
have been, "but especially for constables.' It is so natural,
* The Chevalier de Boiifflers. ' AmiSj sa gloire Temharrasse,
^ The verses were as follow : — II faudra pourtant qu'il s'y fasse :
Mais filons doux,
Sur Monsieur de MaUsherbes, premier Et nous reposons sur rhistoire ;
president de la caur dee aides. Sans pins lui parler de sa gloire,
' ! qu'on aime la bonhomie Buvons y tons —
Qui dans ta grande ^me s'allie ' A celui qui si bien conseille
Aux grands talents ! Son maltre, dont il a I'oreille f ,
Tout Paris fdte Malesherbes, Buvons aussi
Le plus grand et le moins superbe A sa sant6 — Je vous la porte,
Des revenans *. Mais disons que le diable emporte
' Jadis I'orateuT qu'on renomme, On B9ait bien qui ! '
De I'exil revenu & Eome, ^ Maupeou.
Eut mfime aooueil : ' The Antiquities of Fumesa, by
Mais le Cio^ron de la Prance Thomas West (1720-1779), a Jesuit
De I'autre a toute I'^loquence in charge of the English mission in
Sans son orguell. North Lancashire and Westmore-
land.
* The members of the recalled Parliament were called lea revenans.
f Le Duo de Choiseul. Walpole.
118 To the Countess of Upper Ossory [i775
that inconvenient to my Lord Castlecomer is scarce a better
proverb.
Pray tell Lady Ailesbury that though she has been so
very good to me, I address my letters to you rather than
to her, because my pen is not always upon its guard, but is
apt to say whatever comes iato its nib ; and then if she
peeps over your shoulder, I am cense not to know it. Lady
Harriet's wishes have done me great good : nothing but a
father's gout could be obdurate enough to resist them. My
Mrs. Damer says nothing to me ; but I give her intentions
credit, and lay her silence on you.
Jan. 1, 1775, and a happy New Year.
I walk ! I walk ! walk alone ! — I have been five times
quite round my rooms to-day, and my month is not up !
The day after to-morrow I shall go down into the dining-
room ; the next week to take the au" ; and then if Mrs. *
is very pressing, why, I don't know what may happen. Well !
but you want news, there are none to be had. They think
there is a ship lost vnth Gage's dispatches. Lady Temple
gives all her diamonds to Miss Nugent \ Lord Pigot lost
400?. the other night at Princess Amelia's. Miss Davis has
carried her cause against Mrs. Yates, and is to sing again at
the Opera. This is all my coffee-house furnished this morning.
1588. To THE Countess op Uppee Ossoet.
Arlington Street, Jan. 1, 1775.
This morning. Madam, as soon as my eyes opened, Philip
stood before me, bearing in one hand a shining vest, and in
8 The name is left tilank in all the Nugent in 1776) ; m. (1775) George
editions. Grenville, afterwards Earl Temple
' Hon. Mary Elizabeth Nugent, and Marquis of Buckingham ; d.
only daughter and heiress of Eobert 1812.
Nugent, Viscount Clare (created Earl
1775] To the Countess of Upper Ossory 119
the other a fair epistle, written in celestial characters, which,
however, it was given me to understand.
The present, I saw, came from no mortal hand, and seemed
to be the boon of all the gods, or rather of all the goddesses ;
for there was taste, fancy, delicacy, flattery, wit, and senti-
ment in it, and so artfully blended, that no celestial in
breeches could possibly have mixed so bewitching a potion.
Venus had chosen the pattern, Flora painted the roses after
those at Paphos, Minerva had worked the tambour part, Clio
wrote the ode, and Thalia took off the majestic stiffness of
the original sketch by breathing her own ease all over it.
These visions naturally presented themselves. I told you,
Madam, I was but just awake, and at that hour, somehow
or other, one's head is very apt to be full of Venus and such
pretty figures. Vanity soon took their place, and, not to be
unworthy of my visitants, I held up my head, and thought
it became so favoured a personage as myself to assume a
loftier port, and behave like my predecessors who had been
honoured in the same manner.
Was I more like ^neas when his mother brought him
armour of heavenly temper, or like Paris when three
divinities exerted all their charms and all their artifices to
ensnare his partiality ? To be sure I could have been simple
enough to be content with the character of Horatius Flaccus,
with which my patronesses had hailed me ; but when I ordered
Philip to reach me my lyre, that I might pour out a rapturous
epode or secular hymn in gratitude, he said, ' Lord ! Sir, you
know Horace's lyre is at Ampthill.'
What follows is more melancholy. I rose ; the first object
was to examine more attentively the inspired vest in the full
sun against which it shone gorgeously ; but, alas ! as I crept
to the window, in the glass I beheld — what do you think,
Madam ? — such an emaciated, wan, wrinkled, poor skeleton,
that — ! adieu, visions, goddesses, odes, vests of roses, and
120 To John Craufurd [i775
immortal Strawberry ! — I thought I saw a thinner Don
Quixote attired by the Duchess for sport. Shocked, sunk
from my altitudes, and shrinking into myself, I bade Philip
Pan9a fold up the vest, and vowed never to dress up my
ghost-like Adonis, but to consecrate the dear work of dear
fingers to the single word (I will believe in the charming
ode) Friendship ; and may the memory of that word, the
vest and the ode, exist when Strawberry Hill, its tinsel
glories and its master, are remembered nowhere else !
1589. To John Ceaufued.
Arlington Street, Jan. 2, 1775.
I WAS not surprised, but rather the more grateful because
I was not surprised, at your kind letter. I am totally re-
covered, excepting my right hand : I walk without a stick ;
nay, am told look as well as ever I did, which never could
be a compliment to me in any part of my life. However,
as I advance with dignity I shall descend to the first floor
but to-morrow, finding it in vain to wait till I am sent for ;
a mishap that has befallen greater folk than me. Still I am
content with being confined but five weeks, instead of five
months ; and though it will make the faculty more violent
than ever against the bootikins, me at least they shall not
persuade out of them ; and though they will be ready to
poison me for speaking the truth, it shall not be by any of
their own potions.
I hope you have been diverted with your tour, and I am
sure you are always the better for being diverted. I have
received a charming present, and more charming verses
from Ampthill. You shall see both at your return, if you
have not already seen them.
Letter 1589. — Collated ■with original in possession of Mr. John W. ford.
1776] To the Marquise du JDeffand 111
Tuesday, 3rd.
Cylek va descendre ' ; that is, an old woman, or an old
man, which is the same thing, is come downstairs and
writes to you with her own hand, which goddesses never
do but when they assume a mortal shape, and then billets-
doux and all the rest follow of course. Indeed, there is
more of the goddess than the woman in my partiality for
you. I doubt your petite sante would tempt no ancient
dame to choose you for her Atys, though a divinity who
would know the goodness of your heart would prefer you to
Hercules. All this rigmarole only to tell you I am much
better, and
Very sincerely yours,
H. Walpole.
1590. To THE Mabquise du Deepand.
De Londres, ee 4 Janvier, 1775.
VoTRE derniere lettre etoit tout ce que je pouvois , desirer,
et je vous en remercie : mais ceUe de my Lady Aiiesbury,
que je recus avec, ne me plut nuUement. Elle dit que vous
vous etes tellement epuisfee k votre fete, que vous en avez
pensfe mourir. J'espere qu'on n'exilera plus vos parens, si
le retour doit vous tant couter '. Vous pouvez vous tranquil-
liser entierement sur mon etat ; il ne me reste que de
I'enfleure a la main droite, et cependant je m'en sers actuelle-
ment, bien qu'enveloppfee de la bottine : M. Wiart ne recon-
noitra pas mon ecriture ; k force d'etre difficile, elle est
meilleure. Je marche sans bequille et sans aide, mais il est
vrai que je suis encore tres foible, et bien plus Eevenant que
1 These words occur in Qninaiilt's original in Walpole's handwriting
opera Atys ; they were probably in possession of Mr. W. E. Parker-
quoted by Walpole from the letter Jervis.
of Madame de S6 vign6 to Mad ame de i The Due and Duohesse de Choiseul
Grignan of Aug. 6, 1677. had returned to Paris for the first
Letter 1 590. — Not in 0. ; now first time since the Duke's fall from power,
printed (verbatim et literatim from
122 To tine, Marquise du Deffand [l775
vos parlementaires. Mais je me repose assez : La Ville est
deserte k I'heure qu'il est ; et de ceux qui y sont, Je n'en
recois que trfes peu. C'6toit la mode il y a deux ans de me
visiter. Toutes les belles, toutes les grandes Dames vinrent
ici a I'envi : actuellement j'affiche la langueur ; et me suis
excusfe sinon a mes Amis intimes.
Yoici Mercredy au soir, et ee Diable d'homme ne m'a pas
encore apportfe les emeraudes. J'ai peur de manquer le
Coche de Douvres. Couty" m'a rendu ce matin deux grilles
et quatre livres de Thfe, qui iront dans la meme Caisse.
Mes parens vous auront dit le grand parti qui s'est offert
pour leur Niece my Lady Francoise ^ C'est une trfes aimable
Fille et tres jolie. Toutes ces Cousines le sont.
Je n'ai pas etfe fachfe de I'absence de mes parens. J'aime
h etre tout seul dans les souffrances. Je scais exactement
comment il faut me traiter. II ne faut que le silence et un
regime extremement froid. Dans ce pais cy tout le Monde
s'y oppose et me preche. Je n'aime que des Domestiques
obeissans, et certainement je n'ai pas envie de me tuer.
Vous voyez que je m'y connois, et me suis gueri bien
promptement. Encore suis-je tres content du sejour qu'ils
ont fait a Paris, des honneurs, des politesses, des bontfes,
qu'ils y ont recus. Je suis charm6 qu'ils ont fait con-
noissance avec vous, et qu'ils ont le bonheur de vous plaire.
A present je commence a desirer leur retour, et je vous prie
de leur donner congfe.
Ce joudy 5.
Comme le Carosse de Douvres part demain, et ne passe
qu'une fois par semaine, j'avois peur que les Emeraudes n'y
seroient pas k temps ; mais les voici ; le Marchand me les
2 The brother of one of Madame du Hertford; m. (May 22, 1775) Henry
Deffand's servants, who was in the Fiennes Pelham-Clinton, eldest son
service of the Earl of Carlisle. of second Duke of Newcastle. Lord
' Lady 3?rances Seymour Conway, Lincoln died in 1778, in his father's
fourth daughter of first Earl of lifetime.
1775] To the Marquise du Deffand 123
a apport6 ce matin. J'ai peur que vous n'en serez pas
exactement contente : Le couYercle de la Jatte est tres
lourd et mal fait : mais la Jatte fait trfes bien sans dessus,
et tout le reste est trfes bien. Si j'avois refusfe de prendre
le couvercle, il auroit fallu attendre encore six mois ou
douze ; car on fonde trfes rarement du verre k cet usage,
etant passfe de mode. II faut que M. de Trudaine fasse
venir la Caisse, qu'on laissera h la Douane de Calais a son
adresse. Outre les Verres, vous y trouverez deux grilles
et quatre livres de Thfe ; le tout empaquet^ par M. Gouty,
que j'ai fait venir exprfes chez moi.
Le Selwyn a passfe toute la soirefe d'hier chez moi, et
meme soupfe, c'est k dire a mangfe des biscuits et moi des
pommes cuites. Votre petit Ami * court la corapagne :
Aujourd'hui chez my Lady Spencer, demain chez les Ossory.
Moi je ne compte de sortir au plutot avant la Semaine qui
vient.
Ce Vendredy 5 '.
La main droite va mieux ; j'ai otfe la bottine, et j'ecris
gantfe. Vous pouvez compter h M. le Due d'Orleans cette
nouvelle preuve de I'excellence des bottines. Dans mon fait
c'est de la demonstration ; cinque semaines au lieu de cinque
mois et demy. Vous m'avez parlfe dernierement d'un projet
que vous aviez de diner au lieu de souper : je ne suis pas de
cet avis la : Vous vous etes accoutoumfee depuis si longtems
a votre methode ordinaire, que je ne scaurais croire q'un
changement vous conviendroit mieux. Peutetre si vous
preniez un petit bouillon a la place de votre Thfe, cela
vous soutiendroit mieux, et vous empecheroit de trop manger
le soir ; mais je vous conseUlerois pas de rien brusquer.
Vous etes tres delicate, et il ne faut pas risquer un change-
ment considerable tout d'un coup.
* John Craufurd, who was a correspondent of Madame du Deffand.
6 So in MS. ; read 6.
124 To Sir Horace Mann [i775
1591. To THE Eev. William Cole.
Arlington Street, Jan. 9, 1775.
I EVERY day intended to thank you for the copy of Nel
Gwyn's letter, till it was too late ; the gout came, and made
me moult my goose-quill. The letter is very curious, and
I am as well content as with the original.
It is lucky you do not care for news more recent than the
Reformation. I should have none to tell you ; nay, nor
earlier neither. Mr. Strut's ' second volume I suppose you
have seen. He showed me two or three much better
drawings from pictures in the possession of Mr. Ives".
One of them made me very happy : it is a genuine portrait
of Humphrey, Duke of Gloucester, and is the individual
same face as that I guessed to be his in my Marriage of
Henry VI. They are infinitely more like each other than
any two modern portraits of one person by different painters.
I have been laughed at for thinking the skull of Duke
Humphrey at St. Alban's proved my guess ; and yet it
certainly does, and is the more like, as the two portraits
represent him very bald, with only a ringlet of hair, as
monks have. Mr. Strut is going to engrave his drawings.
Yours faithfully,
H. W.
1592. To SiE HoEACE Mann.
Arlington Street, Jan. 9, 1775.
I WKITE without having anything to say, but what I know
you will like better than news. I am quite recovered of the
gout, except in the hand I write with, and which you see
Letter 159] . — i Joseph Strutt Peo;ple of Englomd.
(1749-1802), antiquary and artist. 2 John Ives (1751-1776), Suffolk
The work mentioned is his Manners, Herald Extraordinary.
Cmtotm, Arms, Habits, die. of the
1775] To Sir Horace Mann 125
cannot be very bad. The bootikins have proved themselves
to demonstration. I had the gout in both hands, both feet,
both elbows, and one wrist, and yet could walk without
a stick in less than a month, and have been abroad twice
in less than five weeks. It came in each part as rapidly as
it could, and went away so too ; and though I had some
acute pain, much less in quantity than in any fit these ten
years. Now, if less pain, and five weeks instead of five
months and a half, as the last fit was, be not demonstra-
tion, there is none in Euclid.
The bootikins do not cure the gout, but if they defer it,
lessen it, shorten it, who would not wear them? "Why,
fine people, younger people, who will not condescend to lie
like a mummy ; nay, nor anybody else, for the physicians
and apothecaries, who began by recommending them, now,
finding they are a specific, cry them down — and wiU be
believed, precisely because they lie ; they say they weaken ;
it is false ; I can at this moment stamp on the marble hearth
with both feet with no more inconvenience than I did at
five-and-twenty, which I never saw one other person that
could do, who had the gout a twelvemonth before. I do this
ten times a day, to convince people ; yet, what is ocular proof
against the assertion of a grave face and a tied wig? If
weakness was the consequence, who would be weakened so
soon as I, who have bones no bigger than a lark's ? I want
to send you a cargo of bootikins ; tell me the shortest way
of conveying them. Your brother is one of the bigoted
infidels ; can one wonder that the three professions make so
many dupes, when pain cannot open the understanding?
Sure the devil's three names of Satan, Beelzebub, and
Lucifer, were given to him in his three capacities of priest,
physician, and lawyer ! It is certainly true that there are
apothecaries in London who have given noxious drugs under
the name of James's powders, to decry the latter. I did not
126 To the Countess of Upper Ossory [1775
think there could be a trade so bad as a profession, till I heard
that the fishmongers in town here fling away great quantities
of fish that it may never be cheap. What a wicked monster
is a great metropolis !
I rejoice that you have resolved to avow your nepotism : it
may be a bar to your obtaining the Papacy, but sounds well
in this Protestant country, and I am sure will turn out to
your mind's satisfaction, though it may be a little inter-
ruption to your quiet.
This is a short letter, but I call it an intercalated one.
There will probably be enough, and too much to send you
soon — but till the Parliament meets, all is suspense ! I hope
decision will not follow in haste ! The moment is very big ;
and if anybody is wise enough to see a quick solution of
all the difficulties, they are much more intuitive than my
comprehension.
Lord Lincoln ' marries my cousin, Lady Frances Conway ^ ;
she is a sweet young woman in person, temper, and under-
standing, and deserves such vast fortune. Adieu !
1593. To THE Countess of Uppee Ossoey.
Arlington Street, Jan. 12, 1775.
You wanted to see my handwriting again. Madam, and
now you will be tired of it ; but I have this instant received
Miss Vernon's pretty fable and verses, and can I help thanking
her and you as quick as possible ? There is a natural sim-
plicity in her fable, that pleases me infinitely more, than if
she had gathered a nosegay of poetic words, and only dis-
posed them in a new garland, as young shepherdesses that
read romances generally do, and without genuine invention.
Lettke 1592. — 1 Eldest son of moiir Conway, Earl of Hertford,
Henry Clinton, Duie of Newcastle. nephew of Catherine Shorter, Lady
WcHpole. Walpole, first wife of Sir Eobert,
2 Fourth daughter of Francis Sey- Walpole.
1775] To the Countess of Upper Ossory 127
As she shows parts and ohservation, the embroidery will
come of itself afterwards. To the praises she bestows on
me, I am very sensible, because I am sure they flow from
a kind and amiable heart, — rather, from a complimentary
one ; but pray. Madam, tell her that I have neither acquired
fame nor can bestow it, and that my name is Horace, only
because I had godfathers and godmothers, and not because
I have the least resemblance to a very great poet so called,
any more than I should have to the apostle, if I had been
christened Matthew. When I am likened to my heathen
predecessor, it only reminds me of my infinite inferiority,
and would not be allowed anywhere but at the puppet-show-
Parnassus at Bath-Easton. I have just got Mrs. Miller's
bouquet of artificial flowers', and have only had time to
dip upon it, and see how very ridiculous compliments un-
deserved may make one ! You will there see how immor-
tality is plentifully promised to riddles and houts-rimes, and
a jar dressed up with ribbons. I once did wish for fame,
I own — now I dread it ; for it is like diamonds, of little
value, unless of the first water, — and who would be fine in
Bristol stones ?
Pray, Madam, send me all the productions of Ampthill.
Everything is agreeable of one's own society, and when it
means to go no farther. I think this is all that is left me
that I care for, or have any eagerness about, — and I am
sure that I read with any pleasure. What should I read
else? I know all that can be told me of the periods I
delight in. I can scarce read Grammont and Madame de
S6vigne, because I know them by heart. Can I pore over
American disputes, which I never did nor ever shall under-
stand ? Do I care for hearing how many ways Mr. Burke
can make a mosaic pavement or an inlaid cabinet ? Can
Letter 1593. — ^ Poetical Amuse- from the compositions read at Bath-
ments at a Villa near Bath, a selection easton.
128 To the Earl of Hardwicke [i775
I be diverted with Mr. Cumberland's comedies, or Garrick's
nonsensical epilogues? No! truly. I am almost as sick
of our literature, as of our politics and politicians ; and,
therefore, if you have any charity, my Lady, send me all
the Ampthilliana, or rather bring them to Grosvenor Place,
which I promise to be reconciled to, and where we will not
make a Helicon of tin and a Parnassus of pasteboard. Let
us leave the whole CastaHan state to the Bufos and Bufesses,
and divert ourselves without trusting posterity with our
secrets.
1594. To THE Eael of Habdwicke.
My LoeD Arlington Street, Jan. 12th, 1775.
Though I was so unfortunate as to be able to send your
Lordship an immediate answer to the honour you offered
me ', yet having company with me I could not do it in
a manner satisfactory to myself, as I had not time to state
to your Lordship the particular reasons I have for declining
what would do so much credit to my press and me, as
printing anything furnished by your Lordship.
I will not trouble you, my Lord, with recapitulating many
private reasons that have induced me to put a stop to my
press, which has not worked in a manner for these two
years. I even two months ago gave my printer warning
to provide for himself, having no farther use for him : and
though it is true that I have retained him since, by the
occasion I had for him as a secretary to write my letters
during the incapacity of my hand in the gout, yet it is with
no present thoughts of employing him again in his pro-
liETTEB 1594. — Not in C. ; now first to reprint at the Strawberry Hill
printed from original in possession Press the State Papers of Sir Dudley
of Mr. George Pritchard, Carleton, first published by that
1 Lord Hardwicke asked Walpole Lord in 1757,
1775] To the Earl of Eardwicke 129
fession. But indeed the insurmountable difiBculty I have
in gratifying myself with the flattering employment of
printing for your Lordship is this (and one material cause
of my suspending my press) — I have been earnestly requested
by a near relation to priat a work, which was not agreeable
to me to print, though offensive to nobody ; and the chief
argument I urged was the bulk of it. Now your Lordship's
candour I am sure will do me the justice to allow that
I deprive myself of one of my chief pleasures, that of con-
tributing to the publication of historic pieces, when I deny
myself the satisfaction of serving you in that light. I could
not print them without exposing myself to a rupture with
one of my own family. I trust your Lordship will not
mention this, as I should not have uttered it, but to prove
my inability of obeying you — for I could not content myself
with pleading to you, my Lord, what has been another
cause of my interrupting my press, the laziness and
indifference to even literary amusements, which age and
the gout have brought upon me. You would have tempted
me, my Lord, to renew them, if such strong motives did
not restrain me.
I beg to know what the Gatalogue is your Lordship means.
I conclude the Anecdotes of Painting ; but I would not send
them till I was sure.
The print of Monsieur de Choiseul is a general, but very
imperfect likeness ; with nothing of the countenance, and
as little of his vivacity ; the person is very much his. The
present King of France is exceedingly like, my Lord ; and
like the Duke of Grafton too, as you have heard. I can
scarce discover the least distant resemblance to the Queen,
who is as strangely like the present Duchess of Grafton,
though infinitely better.
I cannot at present, my Lord, recollect where there is
any miniature or wax cast of my father, that is to be parted
WALPOLE. IX
130 To the Marquise du Beffand. [i775
with ; if I can hear of any such thing your Lordship shall
know.
I have the honour to be
With great respect,
My Lord,
Your Lordship's
Most obedient
Humble servant,
HoK. Walpole.
1595. To THE Maequise du Defpand.
De Londres, ce 13 Janvier, 1775.
En toute veritfe je vous assure que je n'ai pas pensfe k vous
faire des menaces. Je vous ai dit en badinant que je ne
voulois vous ecrire de huit jours — et voila ou me fait tomber
le malheur de ne pas 6crire dans ma propre langue. Si je
ne parle pas toujours d'un serieux phlegmatique, votre m6-
fiance naturelle vous fait soupconner que je suis de mauvaise
humeur — ^je ne scais pas de remede, et il faut se soumettre
& ces contretems. Au moins vous voyez que je ne me fache
pas aujourd'hui.
Non, assurement, mon cousin ne gardera pas votre Madame
de Prie '- Vous me I'aviez offert, et je n'ai pas voulu vous
I'oter — mais puisque vous la donnez, je pretends qu'elle est
& Moi comme plus ancien en date. Ne vous donnez plus de
peine sur Madame d'Olonne ; vous en avez deja trop pris.
Je vous prie seulement de me la faire acheter h. la vente, si
le priz ne passe pas cent Louis ou environ, ce qui seroit bien
payer sa fantaisie ; mais j'ai peur, que je ne I'aurai pas. II
y a un Mons'" d'Henri ou bien d'Heneri, demeurant dans
la meme rue aveo le Chevalier Lambert, et tout pr6s de
IiSTTXRl595. — Not in C; now first in possession of Mr. W. E. Parker-
printed {verbatim et literatim) from Jervis.
original in Walpole's handwriting i A miuiatnre.
/>ie.. Pii^/nM.f't^'^^'f^, »/;«./iu/«y «*»-^^ ^s^-M^L \
--— .. — ^ m
LETTER OF HORACE WALPOLE TO MADAME DU DEFFAND
/vA^iMrC' t4Mj/*JU£utitxi»^f J».£i/r74v /*<• '**^ -t^tht. iifiu,f^
1775] To the Marquise du Beffand 131
I'hotel de Richelieu, et qui achete a, tort et k travers tous
les ouvrages soi disants de Petitot, qui me I'emportera, et
j'en serai fachfe. II y avait encore un monsieur que j'ai vu
chez vous, et dont j'ai oubli^ le nom, mais il a de grands
sourcUs noirs ; il achete aussi des Petitots, et me proposa
un jour de venir voir ses tableaux ; mais c'est trop vous im-
portuner, et je ne vous en parlerai plus. Je suis encore
fach6 de vous avoir demands la vie de Ninon, puisqu'elle
est ancienne: c'est sans doute celle dont j'ai tirfe ma feuUle
dans le Monde \ et que je sais par coeur. t
Je viens enfin de recevoir de la part de I'Executeur Testa-
mentaire de M. Taaffe Trois cent ving sept livres Sterling
douze Shellings et six Sous, sur le compte de Madame la
Marechale de Mirepoix, le dernier paiement qu'elle touchera.
L'Entremetteur s'est payfe cinque guinfees, et c'est tr^s
raisonable — done il n'en reste pour Madame que trois cent
ving deux livres, sept Shelings, et six sous. Je crois que
la meilleure manifere de faire toucher cette somme h Mad.
la Marechale, ce sera si men cousin veut bien avoir la Com-
plaisance de la lui paier, et que son Banquier s'adresse k
moi pour le remboursement — mais alors U faudra que
Madame de Mirepoix paie a mon cousin ce qu'U perdra par
les frais de I'echange, car je ne veux pas qu'U paie la Dame
k son propre depens. Je vous prie d'arranger cela avec lui
avant que d'en parler a la Marechale.
Je trouve I'epigramme de Voltaire fort plaisant. On ne
m'a pas envoye les trois Exclamations ' ; et M. Clarges, que
je scais arrive, ne m'a pas rendu la Ninon, mais je la lui
demanderai, si je n'entends pas parler.
On m'a dit hier que notre petit ami a la Goute chez my
Lady Spencer, et le pife sur un tabouret. Mad. Greville est
hardie si elle repondra de ce qu'il fera au printems.
' The World, No. xxviii. See Worki ' The title of au epigram on the
of Lord Orford, vol. i. pp. 169-73. journalist Suard,
K 2
132 To the Hon. Henry Seymour Conway, &c. [1775
Je vous prie d'assurer Mad. de Jonsac combien je suis
sensible k son Souvenir ; c'est Una des personnes en Prance
pour qui j'ai le plus d'estime, bien que je n'y aie pas fait
quatre vingt dix Connoissances, comme M. Conway ■*.
J'oubliois de vous dire que je suis tres content des Vers
du Chevalier dans la Tasse. Tout ce qu'il fait est joli.
Ma Goute s'en va on ne peut pas plus lentement. Je
marche tres mal, je monte mal un escalier et je descends
avec plus de difficult^ encore. Je ne quitte le gant de la
main droite que pour ecrire, et j'ai fait demander permission
h. la Princesse Amelie de le garder quand j'aurai I'honneur
de jouer avec Elle Lundy.
Je remets ma parfaite guerison au mois prochain, quand
je compte d'aller passer huit jours a une Campagne de my
Lord Hertford k deux pas de la mer, et k vingt lieues de
Londres. L'air de la mer me fait autant de bien que les
bottines, et mille fois plus rapidement.
Je suis trfes sterile aujourd'hui. La campagne politique
s'ouvrira la Semaine qui vient, et alors la ville se remplira.
J'ai des nouvelles assez amusantes pour mes parens, mais
comme elles ne sent point politiques et se conserveront, et
que je n'ai pas le tems de leur ecrire aujourd hui, je les
garderai jusqu'k Mardy. C'est I'histoire d'une Society
pofetique dont je me suis fort amusfe*. Bon soir.
1596. To THE Hon. Heney Seymoue Conway and
THE Countess of Ailesbuey.
Arlington Street, Jan. 35, 1775.
You have made me very happy by saying your journey
to Naples is laid aside. Perhaps it made too great an im-
pression on me; but you must reflect, that all my life
* ' Savez-vous combien il oonnalt sauvage.' (Madame du Deffand to
dfiji de personnes dans Paris? Horace Walpole, Jan. 3, 1775.)
Quatre-vingt-dix. H n'est nullement « See the following letter.
1775] To the Hon. Henry Seymour Conway, &c. 133
I have satisfied myself with your being perfect, instead of
trying to be so myself. I don't ask you to return, though
I wish it : in truth, there is nothing to invite you. I don't
want you to come and breathe fire and sword against the
Bostonians, like that second Duke of Alva, the inflexible
Lord George Germain ; or to anathematize the court and
all its works, like the incorruptible Burke, who scorns
lucre, except when he can buy a hundred thousand acres
from naked Caribs for a song. I don't want you to do any-
thing like a party-man. I trust you think of every party as
I do, with contempt, from Lord Chatham's mustard-bowl
down to Lord Eockingham's hartshorn. All, perhaps, will
be tried in their turns, and yet, if they had genius, might
not be mighty enough to save us. From some ruin or other I
think nobody can, and what signifies an option of mischiefs ?
An account is come of the Bostonians having voted an
army of sixteen thousand men, who are to be called minute-
men, as they are to be ready at a minute's warning. Two
directors or commissioners, I don't know what they are
called, are appointed. There has been too a kind of mutiny
in the Fifth Eegiment. A soldier was found drunk on his
post. Gage, in this time of danger, thought rigour necessary,
and sent the fellow to a court-martial. They ordered two
hundred lashes. The General ordered them to improve
their sentence. Next day it was published in the Boston
Gazette. He called them before him, and required them
on oath to abjure the communication : three oificers refused.
Poor Gage is to be scapegoat \ not for this, but for what
was a reason against employing him, incapacity. I wonder
at the precedent! Howe^ is talked of for his successor. —
Well, I have done with you ! — Now I shall go gossip with
Lady Aylesbury.
Lettee 1596. — ' Gage was not de- Howe ; he was sent out with re-
privedof command on this occasion, inforoements for &age in March
2 Major-General Hon. William 1775.
134 To the Hon. Henry Seymour Conway, &c. [l775
You must know, Madam, that near Bath is erected
a new Parnassus, composed of three laurels, a myrtle-
tree, a weeping-willow, and a view of the Avon, which has
been new christened Helicon. Ten years ago there lived
a Madam Eiggs, an old rough humourist who passed for a
wit ; her daughter, who passed for nothing, married to
a Captain Miller, full of good-natured officiousness. These
good folks were friends of Miss Eich', who carried me to
dine with them at Bath-Easton, now Pindus. They caught
a little of what was then called taste, built and planted, and
begot children, till the whole caravan were forced to go
abroad to retrieve. Alas ! Mrs. Miller is returned a beauty,
a genius, a Sappho, a tenth Muse, as romantic as Mademoi-
selle Scud^ri, and as sophisticated as Mrs. Vesey. The
Captain's fingers are loaded with cameos, his tongue runs
over with virfu, and that both may contribute to the im-
provement of their own country, they have introduced
touts-rimes as a new discovery. They hold a Parnassus fair
every Thursday, give out rhymes and themes, and all the
flux of quality at Bath contend for the prizes. A Eoman
vase dressed with pink ribbons and myrtles receives the
poetry, which is drawn out every festival ; six judges of
these Olympic games retire and select the brightest com-
positions, which the respective successful acknowledge, kneel
to Mrs. Calliope Miller, kiss her fair hand, and are crowned
by it with myrtle, with— I don't know what. You may
think this is fiction, or exaggeration. Be dumb, unbelievers !
The collection is printed, published. — Yes, on my faith !
There are louts-rimis on a buttered muffin, made by her
Grace the Duchess of Northumberland; receipts to make
them by Corydon the venerable, alias George Pitt ; others
very pretty, by Lord Palmerston * ; some by Lord Carlisle :
'Daughter of Sir Eobert Eioh, « HenryTemple(1739-1802), second
and sister to the second wife of Viscount Palmerston.
George, Lord Lyttelton, Walpole.
1775] To the Hon. Henry Seymour Conway, &c. 135
many by Mrs, Miller herself, that have no fault but
wanting metre; and immortality promised to her with-
out end or measure. In short, since folly, which never
ripens to madness but in this hot climate, ran distracted,
there never was anything so entertaining or so dull —
for you cannot read so long as I have been telling.
Jan. 17.
Before I could finish this, I received your dispatches by
Sir Thomas Clarges, and a most entertaining letter in three
tomes. It is being very dull, not to be able to furnish a
quarter so much from your own country — but what can
I do ? You are embarked in a new world, and I am liviing
on the scraps of an old one of which I am tired. The best
I can do is to reply to your letter, and not attempt to amuse
you when I have nothing to say. I think the Parliament
meets to-day, or in a day or two — but I hope you are coming.
— Your brother says so, and Madame du Deffand says so ;
and sure it is time to leave Paris, when you know ninety of
the inhabitants ^ There seems much affectation in those
that will not know you " ; and affectation is always a little-
ness — it has been even rude ; but to be sure the rudeness
one feels least is that which is addressed to one before there
has been any acquaintance.
Ninon '' came, because, on Madame du Deffand's mention-
ing it, I concluded it a new work, and am disappointed.
I can say this by heart. The picture of Madame de Prie ',
which you don't seem to value (and so Madame du Deffand
says), I believe I shall dispute with you ; I think it charm-
ing, but when offered to me years ago, I would not take it —
it was now given to you a little a mon intention.
6 See p. 132, note 4. • The Duke de Choisenl. WalpoU.
' The Life of Ninon de rEnolos. Walpole.
8 It is now at Strawberry HiU. Walpole.
136 To the Hon. Henry Seymour Conway, &c. [i775
I am sorry that, amongst all the verses you have sent me,
you should have forgotten vs^hat you commend the most,
Les trois exclamations : I hope you will bring them with you.
Voltaire's are intolerably stupid, and not above the level of
officers in garrison. Some of M. de Pezay's' are very pretty,
though there is too much of them ; and in truth I had seen
them before. Those on Madame de la Vallifere pretty too,
but one is a little tired of Venus and the Graces. I am
most pleased with your own" — and if you have a mind to
like them still better, make Madame du Deffand show you
mine ", which are neither French, nor measure, nor metre.
She is unwilling to tell me so ; which diverts me. Yours
are really genteel and new.
I envy you the Eussian anecdotes'^ more than M. de
Chamfort's fables, of which I know nothing; and as you
say no more, I conclude I lose not much. The stories of
Sir Charles " are so far not new to me, that I heard them
of him from abroad after he was mad : but I believe no
mortal of his acquaintance ever heard them before ; nor did
they at all correspond with his former life, with his treat-
ment of his wife, or his history with Mrs. Woffington, qui
" Alexandre Frfidfirio Jacques ^^ These lines do not appear.
Massou (1741-1777), Marquis de Walpole.
Pezay. 12 ^ ng_ account of the revolution
i" Miss Berry notes that Conway's which placed Catherine II on the
lines were ' sent with a porcelain throne, by Claude Carloman de
dijeuni to the Vioomtesse de Cambis Eulhifire (1735-1791), who had been
at the beginning of the new year, attached to the French embassy in
when it was the universal custom at St. Petersburg. Eulhifere occasionally
Paris to interchange small presents read his anecdotes out loud in private
known by the name of ^(renMes.' The houses. He olaimied to give a fuU
verses were as follow : — account of the whole transaction,
' L'^trenne qu'on vous offre ici ^^^ spared no one. His work caused
N'estrarenimignonne: ^reat annoyance to the Empress,
Mais les viStilles ont du prix '^'^'' '"^"^ '"^ ™™ *° ^*™ *' ^P-
Quand o'est le cceur qui donue. 1"^^??,^^- .'^^ anecdotes were printed
in 1797, the year after the Empress's
' De plus encore pour satisfaire death.
Au scrupule le plus sSvfere, " Sir Charles Hanbuiy Williams.
II faut penser qu'en acceptant Walpole.
C'est vous qui faites le present.'
1775] To the Countess of Upper Ossory 137
n'etaitpas dupe. I say nothing on the other stories you tell
me of billets dropped ", etpour cause.
I think I have touched all your paragraphs, and have
nothing new to send you in return. In truth, I go nowhere
but into private rooms ; for I am not enough recovered to
re-launch into the world, when I have so good an excuse for
avoiding it. The bootikins have done wonders ; but even
two or three such victories will cost too dear. I submit
very patiently to my lot. I am old and broken, and it
never was my system to impose upon myself when one can
deceive nobody else. I have spirits enough for my use, that
is, amongst my friends and contemporaries : I like young
people and their happiness for everything but to live with ;
but I cannot learn their language, nor tell them old stories,
of which I must explain every step as I go. Politics, the
proper resource of age, I detest — I am contented, but see
few that are so — and I never will be led by any man's self-
interest. A great scene is opening, of which I cannot
expect to see the end ; I am pretty sure not a happy end —
so that, in short, I am determined to think the rest of my
life but a postscript : and as this has been too long an one,
I will wish you good night, repeating what you know
already, that the return of you three is the most agreeable
prospect I expect to see realized. Adieu !
1597. To THE Countess of Uppee Ossoey.
Jan. 15, 1775.
1 AM glad I opened the letter myself, Madam ; I would
not have had Kirgate see it for the world, and therefore
1* This alludes to cironmstanoea contents pnblio. He was in con-
Mr. Conway mentions as having sequence forbidden by the Queen to
taken place at a ball at Versailles. appear again at the court baUs.
Walpole. — Ayoung Vioomted'Honde- {See Correspondance entre Marie TM-
tot picked up a letter written by rise et le Comte de Mercy-Argenteau,
a lady to her lover, and made its vol. ii. pp. 287-8.)
138 To the Countess of Upper Ossory [i775
attempt to write an answer in my lap with only one hand.
If no man is a hero in the eyes of his valet de cJiambre, what
must a miserable author be in those of his printer ! You
think you have sent me some very pretty verses, Madam,
and so you have — very pretty indeed ; for poetry can create,
paint, or call from the grave, and the less solidity there is
in the vision, the more enchanting are its hues: but if
truth presents its glass, the rainbow disappears, and nothing
remains but what I have found. Verses on a Death's head ! —
and my immortal fame may walk perhaps to the publication
of the next monthly magazine. In serious earnest, I do
think it is such an impertinence in every little scribbler in
a parish to accept new year's gifts of immortal fame from
their friends, that, at the risk of ingratitude, I must protest
against the practice.
As an antiquary, Madam, I am better diverted. I can
but imagine how the grave professors of our mystery will
be embarrassed a thousand years hence (which is all the
portion of futurity in my disposal) to discover who the im-
mortal man was that will live only in your Ladyship's
lines. Nay, what if the reverse of your compliment should
happen, and the author should only be discovered by his
printer! Such mortifications have happened to as great
German and Batavian wits as I am, and therefore I beg.
Madam, you will treat my co-labourer Kirgate with more
respect, as, should fame happen to have a library of rare
editions, I may be admitted there only under his auspices.
Upon the whole, to your Ladyship and him I commit the
whole reversion of my future renown, where I am sure it
will be in better hands than in my own ; and I do hereby
appoint and declare my said loving Muse and faithful printer
joint executrix and executor of this my last will and testa-
ment, written all with my own hand this fifteenth day of
January, in the first and last year of my immortality, and
1775] To the DuJce of Gloucester 139
in the no less immortal reign of G. Ill, by the want of
grace late King of France and America, &c.
1598. To THE Duke op Gloucester.
Sir, Jan. 17, 1775.
Your Royal Highness's commands are so much a law to
me, that though deeply conscious of the inequality of my
understanding to so arduous a question, and fuU of fears
lest a word should drop from me that should lead your
Royal Highness into any step prejudicial to yourself, or to
the Princesses \ your daughters, I venture to lay my thoughts
at your Royal Highness's feet, only entreating, if they appear
to have any weight in them, that your Royal Highness would
not adopt them till they have been approved by better judge-
ments than mine.
Before I speak, Sir, on the question whether your Royal
Highness should take any measure in Parliament for pro-
curing a provision for your family, permit me. Sir, to state
an apprehension that has struck me from the conversation
I had the honour of having with you the last time I saw
you. Your Royal Highness expressed doubts whether there
might not be some idea of calling the legitimacy of your
children in question. Alas ! Sir, if it is possible that any
human mind should have such an idea, would not a motion
in Parliament be the likeliest method of bringing that horrid
intention into execution ? The Parliament is so infamous,
that it could, I firmly believe, be brought to lend its assistance
to anything. As your Royal Highness's hint of carrying any
part of your cause thither has not alarmed, may one not
suppose that not alarming, it pleases? What will either
House not do ? What has either refused to do ? Consider,
Lkttbb 1598. — 1 Princess Sophia gusta Maria. The latter -was born
Matilda and Princess Caroline Au- in 1771 and died on March 14, 1775.
140 To the Duke of Gloucester [1775
Sir, how many would be glad to colour over their mean
desertion or neglect of you by calling into question the
validity of your marriage, and consequently of the birth of
your children. Shame is apt to fly to crimes for a veil.
I have no difficulty in speaking on this question: your
Eoyal Highness must authenticate the legitimacy of your
children, before you think of a provision for them. I rest
it there. Sir, not to trouble you with unnecessary words.
In regard to the question your Eoyal Highness was pleased
to put to me, on some motion for a provision, I will consider
it in two lights ; in the first, whether it would be proper for
any Lords to take it up. This, Sir, I am sorry to say, lies
in a small compass, and extends to a very few Lords in the
opposition ; your Eoyal Highness knows already my opinion,
that a few opposing Lords would only do your cause signal
mischief, and would give the pretended sanction, that I fear
is wished for, to doing nothing for you ; and, therefore, if
I am not wrong, not to be attempted. The Duke of E.", with
whom I have talked, fears nothing. Sir, but hurting your
cause. He is so personally obnoxious, that he thinks a
motion from your Eoyal Highness and himseK would only
be considered, certainly represented, as factious ; his Grace's
tenderness and delicacy would not suffer him to add, that
none of his friends would support him, though he knows
they would not. What could be expected, Sir, from a
measure so generally abandoned? When could it be re-
vived with success, unless, not only times, but men should
be totally altered ?
I can then. Sir, have but one idea left, the same I suggested
on Monday, if your Eoyal Highness should stiU think the
present season a proper one, though it is probable that
nothing will be stirred this year in relation to an increase
of the revenue of the crown. I must throw myself on your
2 The Duke of Eiohmond.
1775] To the BuJce of Gloucester 141
Eoyal Highness's great goodness and generosity before I
presume to utter what I have further to say. You have
indeed, Sir, commanded me, given me leave to speak what
I think, and I dare not at such a crisis but speak what I
think. Be not offended. Sir ; my heart burns to serve you,
but I will not waste your time on my idle apologies. My
sincerity must be proved by my actions.
I have said. Sir, how infamous I think Parliaments. I
have not so bad an opinion of all mankind in general.
Humanity can operate when interest is silent. It seems
essential, in my opinion, to any future service, that your
Eoyal Highness may reap from a motion in Parliament,
that the cry of mankind should be raised loud in your
favour. That can only be excited by stating your sufferings
and by being able to prove that you have done everything
in your power to reconcile his Majesty, and to deprecate his
anger. The plan I should humbly offer to your Eoyal High-
ness for your conduct will best explain my meaning, laying
it before you. Sir, with the utmost deference and diflSdence ;
far from presuming to dictate, but obeying from perfect
submission.
I should begin, Sir, by writing an ostensible letter to the
King, asking pardon for a natural youthful error, regretting
his displeasure, entreating a return of his fraternal affections,
stating my own ill-health, and how much that must be
augmented by his resentment, and at least imploring he
would give that relief to a sick body and wounded mind of
promising he would make a proper provision for persops so
dear to me as my wife and children. As heightening the
picture a little would not add to your Eoyal Highness's
disorder, I would beg the comfort of taking leave of him
in so critical a situation of my health. If this should have
no effect. Sir, I would just before leaving England, in my
place in the House of Lords, acquaint their Lordships, that
142 To the Duke of Gloucester [1775
I was grieved his Majesty was so much oifended at a youthful
error, which, as it was neither repugnant to religion nor law
at that time, I had iiattered myself had not been irremissible ;
that I had done but what the heir of the crown, James II,
when Duke of York, had done, and been forgiven, and what
had very frequently been done by other princes of the royal
blood, and by kings of England themselves ; that I had
never refused any match that had been proposed, and had
only chosen for myself when no wife had been sought for
me ; that I had preferred legal matrimony to the dissolute-
ness of youth ; that I had selected a woman of blameless
virtue, and that I had done what their Lordships could not
disapprove, — I had chosen a lady from their own class, into
which Princes of the blood used to marry. I would then
acquaint them with the steps I had in vain taken for recon-
ciliation. I would entreat them to be mediators with the
King for remission of my fault in marrying without his
approbation : I would acquaint them with the precarious
state of my health, which obliged me to leave the kingdom
and my family unprovided for, and I would beg them, as
Christian Peers and his Majesty's Great Council, to endeavour
to repair the breaches in the royal family ; and if anything
should happen to me, to intercede with his Majesty's piety
and forgiveness to make a suitable provision for two innocent
young Princesses of his own blood, who had never offended
him ; and I would add, that to avoid any suspicion of
intending to disturb his Majesty's mind, I declined making
any present Parliamentary application for my children, but
would leave to the wisdom of their Lordships to take the
most proper time of being intercessors for me and my
family with my royal brother. This address. Sir, to the
Lords I would deliver in vrriting, and would desire it might
be entered on the Journals ; I would then retire and leave
them.
1775] To the Duke of Gloucester 143
But now, Sir, after taking such a latitude of liberty, whom
shall I entreat to be intercessor for me with your Eoyal
Highness ? Your own excellent heart, Sir. No, you cannot
be offended at zeal, even if it has passed its due bounds.
On my soul. Sir, I think that what I have said is the best
method I can desire for obtaining your Koyal Highness's
object. No high-flown loyalty nor grovelling self-interest
has dictated my words. If Parliament is against you, the
majority of mankind must be gained over by acting as they
would advise. If I advise you. Sir, to stoop beyond what
your Eoyal Highness would suggest, it is for the sake of
your children, who will plead when I fail. If you are in
the right in the world's eye, whatever it costs your feeling,
it vrLU be of use to them. The circumstances may change ;
your health, I trust in God, will be re-established, and the
more sacrifices you have made, the higher you will stand in
the esteem of mankind. I still flatter myself you will
enjoy all the happiness and dignity due to your virtues
and birth. I am not likely to see that moment, nor should
I profit by it if I did, — but I have done my duty as your
true servant, and if I was now at my last hour, I could
not give you any other advice than what I now presume
to lay at your feet.
P.S. If yoiu; Royal Highness should deem this advice
timid, I beg. Sir, it may be tried by this test, whether your
Eoyal Highness thinks that any one of your enemies would
be glad I had given this advice : undoubtedly, Sir, the niore
you take care to be in the right yourself, the more you put
those who hurt you with the King in the wrong.
144 To the Marquise du Beffand 1775
1599. To THE Maequise du Deffand.
De Londres, ce 19 Janvier, 1775.
Je puis vous assurer avec la plus grande veritfe que non
seulement mes parens sont infiniraent contents de vous,
mais qu'ils vous admirent et qu'ils vous aiment autant que
vous le mdritez. C'est ce qu'ils repetent trop souvent pour
que j'en doute. De leur cotfe quelle raison d'etre contents !
Jamais on n'a tant fait pour des Etrangers I II me paroit
que M. Conway seroit charme de s'etablir a Paris. Oui, je
leur ferai force questions ; mais ils ont bien passe le cercle
de mes Connoissances.
Votre menagement poll pour mes couplets m'a fort diverti.
Je m'attendois a vous entendre crier qu'ils etoient les plus
plats et les plus ridicules du monde. Vous n'avez jamais eu
k vous reprocher trop de complaisance pour mes ouvrages —
pourquoi epagner mes vers Franjais? Pensez vous que je
les ai cru bons? Je sca,vais bien qu'ils etoient detestables.
C'est mon cousin qui en fait de jolis — je trouve tres jolis
ceux qu'il a fait pour Madame de Cambis. J'ai trouve ceux
de votre fete fort bien aussi, cependant pas admirables. Mais
il n'y a rien ou nous differons davantage qu'en fait de vers.
J'ai tort sans doute, car assurement vous devez juger votre
langue mieux que moi.
Permettez vous que faute d'autre Matifere, je remplisse le
reste de ma lettre avec des nouvelles Politiques pour mon
Cousin ? Voilk done que les affaires en Amerique vont au
plus mal. On y envoye encore trois autres Eegiments. On
va demander au parlement, qui s'est assemble aujourd'hui,
six mille Matelots dont on n'a pas voulu il y a un mois.
Cela ne paroit pas fort consequent — mais voici ce qui est
bien plus etrange, et qui n'a pas I'air guerrier. On annonca
Letter 1599. — Not in C. ; now first in possession of Mr. W. E, Parker-
printed {verbatim et literatim) from Jervis.
original in Walpole's tand-writing
1775] To the Marquise du Deffand 145
hier par autoritfe, c'est a dire par la sienne, que my Lord
Chatham, doit se presenter k la Chambre des Pairs pour
faire une proposition. On a etfe tres curieux de scavoir ce
que ce devoit etre que cette Proposition, et on assure que la
voici Autorisfe par le Docteur Franklin (mon cousin vous
dira qui c'est) le seigneur Chatham doit offrir au Eoi de la
part des Colonies trois cent cinquante mille livres Sterling
par an, moyennant I'abolition des Taxes et des Edits qui
gravent I'Amerique. On pretend qu'on s'en mocquera —
cependant on rit h contre-coeur.
My Lord North a presents ce matin a la Chambre un
Cahier 6norme de papiers Americains, demandant qu'on les
examine aujourdhui en huit.
Vous voUa aussi savante que pas un Politique dans nos
Cafffes. Hier la Cour etait en gala jour de la Keine. Les habits
etoient d'une magnificence extraordinaire, et les plumes des
Dames un peu Emule des Votres. A trois heures aprfes midy
arriva un brouillard si epais que personne ne scait trouver
son carosse, et grand fut le bruit, I'embarras qui survint,
avec beaucoup de dommage fait aux Equipages. Le Valet
du Ministre de Prusse renversa k coups de poing un Grenadier
h la Porte du Palais ; le ministre se plaint au Colonel de ce
qu'on s'etait assurfe de la personne du Laquais. ' Monsieur,
dit le colonel, que croyez vous qu'on eut fait h. un Anglois
qui eut frapp6 un grenadier a la porte du Palais de Berlin ? '
Nous sommes plus polls ; on a relache le Domestique.
VoUa un EchantUlon d'une lettre Angloise. Je ne crois
pas que vous demanderez une Suite.
Le20.
Tout est change aujourd'hui : on dit que my Lord Chatham
va demander qu'on augmente I'Arm^e par terre et par mer.
Je ne saurai la Verity qu'aprfes la Poste partie, ce qui est
plus sur, c'est ce que le Minist^re s'est decide pour la Guerre,
et qu'on menace les Colonies d'une punition tres rude.
WALTOLE. IX L
146 To the Countess of Upper Ossory [i775
Vo3 emeraudes coutent cinq Louis et demy. II me semble
que mes lettres sont comme les Cours, remplis de grandes et
de petites choses.
1600. To THE Countess oe Upper Ossoey.
Ai-lington Street, Jan. 21, 1775.
No ; I will never read nonsense again with a settled
resolution of being diverted ! The Miscellany from Bath-
Easton is ten degrees duller than a magazine, and, which is
wondrous, the noble authors it adds to my Catalogue are the
best of this foolish Parnassus. There is one very pretty
copy by Lord Palmerston ; and the Duchess of Northumber-
land has got very jollily through her task. I have scarce
been better diverted by Dr. Johnson's Tour to the Western
Isles. What a heap of words to express very little ! and
though it is the least cumbrous of any style he ever used,
how far from easy and natural ! He hopes nobody but is
glad that a boatful of sacrilege, a diverting sin ! was ship-
wrecked. He believes in second sight, and laughs at poor
Pennant for credulity ! The King sent for the book in MS.,
and then wondering, said, '1 protest, Johnson seems to be
a Papist and a Jacobite ! ' — so he did not know why he had
been made to give him a pension !
1 must cross the sea, Madam, if I tell you anything better,
and so I will. One of the ladies to the Queen of France
announced to her that the Comtesse d'Artois was breeding.
The Queen was a little piqued and envious ; and to conceal
it said, ' 1 wonder what the child will be called ? ' The lady
answered, ' I hope, Madam, le Precurseur.'
This story is only the precursor of one ten thousand times
better, which 1 reserved. The Oomte d'Artois, forgetting
that his brother is King, treats him with all the familiarity
of their nursery. It was thought necessary to correct this ;
1775] To the Countess of Upper Ossory 147
and M. de Maurepas was commissioned to give the hint.
Being urged, he said the King would grow offended. ' Well,'
said the Prince, ' and if he is, que peut-il me faire ? ' ' Vous
pardonner, Monseigneur,' replied the minister. If you don't
admire this more than any reply in your Diogenes Laertius
and ancient authors, I wUl never tell your Ladyship another
modern story.
Well ! I am come back to England, and here I find no
bad saying of an English Queen. The crowd at the Birthday
was excessive, and had squeezed, and shoved, and pressed
upon the Queen in the most hoyden manner. As she went
out of the Drawing-room, somebody said in flattery, ' The
crowd was very great.' — 'Yes,' said the Queen, ' and wherever
one went, the Queen was in everybody's way.'
I have written this since I came home to-night, Thursday,
on my way towards Saturday's post, that I might not forget
the Ions mots I had collected for my gazette. To-morrow,
I expect, will produce longer speeches.
I know what I know. To-morrow is to happen a great
event ^ — I will not tell you what, till I know myself what
it does produce. If it was not too late for the post, I would
send away my letter this instant, that I might keep your
Ladyship and Lordship in expectation for a whole night.
Now I think of it, I can send it away to-morrow, and keep
all Ampthill in equal suspense. I believe I shall — I don't
know whether I shall or not — well, I will consider of it.
Saturday evening '.
Oh, the pretty easy affectionate verses ! but I beg your
pardon for not returning them last night : I had not time,
for I had dined out, and did not receive them till the post
Lettek 1600. — ^ Lord Chatham's ' Hitherto printed as a separate
motion to address the King for the letter. (See Notes and Queries, April
recall of the troops from Boston. 14, 1900.)
L 2
148 To the Countess of Upper Ossory [i775
was gone. But the great event — well, it must stay, —
I cannot drop Lord Ossory so. Madam, madam, if your
heart did not cry its eyes out, it is rock and ilint, and all
the hard things ladies' hearts used to be made of. Mine,
that has hardly any eyes or ears left, was charmed with
the harmony and touched with the sensibility. I forgive
the dairy next door to the hospital, and don't wonder that
With such a companion to tend a few sheep.
To rise up and play, and to lie down and sleep',
you have no taste for anything but milking cows. The
ten last lines have more feeling and sentiment than ever
were written by lovers, and are a better sermon in behalf
of marriage than all that has been preached from St. Paul
to St. Whitfield. I have not kept a copy, because I never
break my trust, but I do ask them seriously, only desiring
the first line, which has a foot too much, may be short-
ened, and they wUl be perfect, which they ought to be,
when they are so near it.
Alas! the great event was addled, or came to little.
I had been told that Lord Chatham was commissioned by
Dr. Franklin to offer the King 350,000Z. a year from
America if the offensive bills were repealed. The ministers
thought he was to ask for an increase of force, so their
intelligence was at last no better than mine ! But,
indeed, who could guess what he would do? He did
appear, and did move to address for a recall of the troops
from Boston, a very Pindaric transition from the first step
towards a pacification to the last ! In heroic poems it is
a rule to begin in the middle, and great poets and great
orators are very like in more instances than one. He was
very hostile, and so was Lord Camden ; but the generals
being braver than the troops, some of the latter ran away,
s From John Byrom's verses beginning, 'My time, ye Muses, was
happily spent.'
1775] To the Countess of Upper Ossory 149
as Colonel Coventry and Cornet Grosvenor. The numbers
were 68 to 18. The Duke of Cumberland, who would have
joined his regiment, if it had been raised, to the vanquished,
was among the slain ; but in truth the subject is a little
too serious for joking. The war on America is determined
on. Four regiments more are ordered thither, and every
hostile measure is to be pursued. The wise measures of
last year have already begotten a civil war. What that
will beget,
The child that is unborn will rue !
If Lord Chatham said true yesterday, the ministers are
already checkmated and have not a move to make.
Pray, Madam, remember I tell you stories about the
children in the wood and Lord Hardwicke, and Barry *, and
Princess Amelie and twenty others which I have not time
for now, for I have more business of one body's or other,
than Lord North, and do rather more.
I will only say now that I am lecoptied ° at last, enlisted
in Mrs. Weesey's ' academy, and am to go thither to-morrow
se'nnight to hear a Mr. Tig-he repeat parts of Mr. Jeph-
son's ' tragedy, which I am persuaded is very good, and so
good that I wish I could hear it all at once ; but one might
as well sit down to read Bysshe's Art of Poetry, as hear
scraps of a plot one does not know. But I must obey ;
good night, Arria and Psetus without a Nero !
* Jamea Baxry (1741-1806), the of Ireland. His tragedy Braganza
painter. was produced with success at Drury
^ See letter to Lady Ossory of Lane in February 1775. He also
Jan. 24, 1775. wrote a tragedy founded on Horace
^ Mrs. Vesey. Walpole's Castle of Otranto, and en-
' Eobert Jephson (1736-1803), titled The Count of mrbonne.
Master of the Horse to the Viceroy
150 To the Hon. Henry Seymour Conway [i775
1601. To THE Hon. Henev Seymoue Conway.
Jan. 22, 1776.
After the magnificent overture for peace from Lord
Chatham, that I announced to Madame du Deffand, you
will be most impatient for my letter. OMme ! you will be
sadly disappointed. Instead of drawing a circle with his
wand round the House jf Lords, and ordering them to
pacify America, on the terms he prescribed before they
ventured to quit the circumference of his commands, he
brought a ridiculous, uncommunicated, unconsulted motion
for addressing the King immediately to withdraw the troops
from Boston, as an earnest of lenient measures. The opposi-
tion stared and shrugged ; the courtiers stared and laughed.
His own two or three adherents left him, except Lord Camden
and Lord Shelburne, and except Lord Temple, who is not his
adherent, and was not there. Himself was not much animated,
but very hostile ; particularly on Lord Mansfield, who had
taken care not to be there. He talked of three millions of
Whigs in America, and told the ministers they were check-
mated and had not a move left to make. Lord Camden was
as strong. Lord Suffolk was thought to do better than ever,
and Lord Lyttelton's declamation was commended as usual.
At last. Lord Rockingham, very punily, and the Duke of
Richmond joined and supported the motion; but at eight
at night it was rejected by 68 to 18, though the Duke of
Cumberland voted for it.
This interlude would be only entertaining, if the scene
was not so totally gloomy. The Cabinet have determined
on civil war, and regiments are going from Ireland and our
West Indian islands. On Thursday the plan of the war is
to be laid before both Houses.
Lettee 1601. — Collated with original in possession of Earl Waldegrave.
1775] To the Hon. Henry Seymour Conway 151
To-morrow the merchants carry their petition ; which,
I suppose, will be coolly received, since, if I hear true, the
system is to cut off all traffic with America at present — as,
you know, we can revive it when we please. There!
there is food for meditation ! Your reflections, as you
understand the subject better than I do, will go further
than mine could. Will the French you converse with be
civil and keep their countenances ?
George Darner t'other day proclaimed your departure for
the 25th ; but the Duchess of Eichmond received a whole
cargo of letters from ye all on Friday night, which talk of
a fortnight or three weeks longer. Pray remember it is
not decent to be dancing at Paris, when there is a civil
war in your own country. You would be like the country
squire, who passed by with his hounds as the battle of
EdgehUl began.
24.
I am very sorry to tell you the Duke of Gloucester is
dying. About three weeks ago the physicians said it was
absolutely necessary for him to go abroad immediately.
He dallied, but was actually preparing. He now cannot
go, and probably will not live many days, as he has had
two shivering fits, and the physicians give the Duchess no
hopes *. Her affiction and courage are not to be described ;
they take their turns as she is in the room with him or not.
His are still greater. His heart is broken, and yet his
firmness and coolness amazing. I pity her beyond measure ;
and it is not a time to blame her having accepted an
honour which so few women could have resisted, and scarce
one ever has resisted.
The London and Bristol merchants carried their peti-
tions yesterday to the House of Commons. The opposition
contended for their being heard by (he committee of the
1 The Duke Uved tiU 1805.
152 To the Countess of Up]per Ossory [i775
whole House, who are to consider the American papers ;
but the court sent them to a committee, after a debate till
nine at night, with nothing very remarkable, on divisions
of 197 to 81, and 1[92]'' to 65. Lord Stanley spoke for the
first time ; his voice and manner pleased, but his matter
was not so successful.
Dowdeswell ' is dead, and Tom Hervey *. The latter
sent for his wife and acknowledged her. Don't forget to
inform me when my letters must stop. Your brother has
made his peace in Cavendish Square ^ Adieu I Yours ever.
1602. To THE Countess of Uppee Ossoey.
Jan. 24, 1775.
I EETtTEN the rebus, which I forgot to commend as it
deserves, having seen it before ; but I cannot tell my stories
now, having much more melancholy employment. The
Duke of Gloucester is dying ; the physicians have no hopes,
nor the poor Duchess ! Though I am a bad courtier,
I must be a good uncle ; and even a good courtier, when
I can never be rewarded for it.
The House of Commons sat till past nine last night on
petitions ; but the newspapers are now tolerable journals.
Lord Stanley spoke for the first time and pleased by his
manner: his matter, they say, would have pleased as well
on any other day.
The Cophthi were an Egyptian race, of whom nobody
knows anything but the learned ; and thence I gave Mrs.
Montagu's academies the name of Coptic, a derivation not
worth repeating or explaining. Tom Hervey is dead ; after
^ Piece torn out. had been on bad terms with her,
' William Dowdeswell, sometime and had tried to set aside his mar-
Chancellor of the Exchequer. riage.
* Second son of first Earl of Bristol * Probably with the Princess
by his second wife. He married Amelia, who lived in Cavendish
Anne, daughter of Francis Coghlan, Square.
Conncillor-at-Law in Ireland. He
1775] To Sir Horace Mann 153
sending for his wife and reacknowledging her in pathetic
heroics.
1603. To Sib Hoeace Mann.
Arlington Street, Jan. 25, 1775.
The Duke of Gloucester is very ill. Had I begun my
letter last night, I should have said extremely ill. It was
reported and believed that he was dead ; but he slept
eight hours last night, and his pulse was better this morn-
ing. The physicians, who gave no hopes yesterday, say
to-night that they never saw any mortal symptoms. Be
assured they speak as little truth of the past as they know
of what is to come. The Duke has been declining this
month ; and he was ordered to go abroad immediately, but
delayed — and now is not able to go. I hope in God he
will get strength enough — I wish him abroad for every
reason. The other Duke', his brother, has erected his
standard in opposition, and though the Duke of Gloucester
is too wise, I trust, to take such a part, he would be teased
to death with the politics of the Luttrels, and had better be
out of the way.
The times are indeed very serious. Pacification with
America is not the measure adopted. More regiments are
ordered thither, and to-morrow a plan, I fear equivalent to
a declaration of war, is to be laid before both Houses. They
are bold ministers, methinks, who do not hesitate on a civil
war, in which victory may bring ruin, and disappointment
endanger their heads. Lord Chatham has already spoken
out: and though his outset (a motion in the Lords last
Friday) was neither wise nor successful, he will certainly
be popular again with the clamorous side, which no doubt
will become the popular side too, for all wars are costly,
and consequently grievous. Acquisition alone can make
Letter 1603.— > The Duke of Comberland.
154 To Sir Horace Mann [i775
those burthens palatable ; and in a war with our own
colonies we must afflict instead of acquiring them, and
cannot recover them without having undone them. I am still
to learn wisdom and experience, if these things are not so.
I thank you much for the opera of the Conclave. It
loses greatly of its spirit by my unacquaintance with the
dramatis personae. By the duration of the interregnum, I
suppose the Holy Ghost is strangely puzzled between the
crowns and the Jesuits ; and the Cardinals more afraid of
poison from the latter, than of the menaces of the former.
Though old folks are not less ambitious than young, they
have greater aversion to arsenic. But seriously, is it not
amazing that the Jesuits can still exist, when their last
crime ' was sufficient to have drawn down vengeance on
them, if they had not been proscribed before ?
We have no news of ordinary calibre; but perhaps I
grow too old to learn the lesser anecdotes of the town.
I scarce ever go to public places, and live only with people
who have turned the corner of adventures. Indeed in this
country there is something so singular and so new in most
characters, that all the world hears the history of the most
remarkable performers. The winter is young yet. I dare
to say it will not long be barren.
27th.
The Duke of Gloucester, I hope, is out of danger ; I mean
for the present. It is a constitution that will always give
alarms ; it has radical evils, and yet amazing stamina. As
to the physicians, I do not mind a syllable they say. On
Saturday they were very proud of a discovery — they had
now found out his distemper, and it was a new one ; he
had two shivering fits, and so there was matter forming.
This mighty discovery, which only authenticated their
former ignorance, proves to be a new blunder. On Tuesday
■^ Of poisoning Pope Gangauelli. Walpole.
1775] To the Marquise du Deffand 155
they gave the Duchess no hopes at all, and on Wednesday
night they recollected that his Koyal Highness had had no
mortal symptom — for they have no shivering fit of shame.
They now talk of his going abroad in April; I wish it
much sooner. In short, I am very impatient, both for his
health, and other reasons. He will take the Duchess and
his daughters, and go no further than the South of France.
That is an answer to a question ' you have not asked. His
mind will be more at peace, and he will be free from all
who would disturb it for their own ends. The Luttrels are
every day, I believe, writing impertinent paragraphs in the
newspapers, as if in behalf of the Duke of Gloucester,
which only tends to incense the King against him, that
they may involve him in their own views ; but he knows
it, and will not be their dupe. Adieu !
P.S. I forgot to tell you that the town of Birmingham
has petitioned the Parliament to enforce the American
Acts, that is, make war ; for they have a manufacture of
swords and muskets. I believe the Dutch will petition
too, for much such a reason !
1604. To THE Maequise du Deffand.
De Londres, ce 27 Janvier, 1775.
MoN cousin s'attendra k la nouvelle de la Mort de Mon-
seigneur le Due de Glocestre — mais tout va bien. Le
Frisson de Samedi n'annon9a que la Fievre, et cette fievre
est passfee, et le danger aussi pour le present, k, ce que je
me flatte. Nos Medecins sont comme les votres, c'est k dire,
des Ignorants. 11 y a tout lieu de croire que le Voyage
' Whether he will go to Italy. original in Walpole's handwriting
Walpole. in possession of Mr. W. B. Parker-
Ietteb 1604. — Not in C. j now first Jervis.
printed {verbatim et literatim) from
156 To the Marquise du Beffand [1775
d'outremer aura lieu, mais on le remet au mois d'Avril,
ce qui me paroit une ignorance nouvelle. Pourquoi le
differer? Je vous avoue je n'en serai pas fachfe sur mon
propre compte. Notre Cour est bien petite, cependant mon
role ne me flatte pas. Je n'y suis pas propre ; et bien que
I'interet que je prenne a la position effrayante de IS,
Duchesse fait que je neglige rien qui puisse lui marquer
mon zele, il est tres penible pour moi d'aller une ou deux
fois par jour en cour. Cela ne quadre pas avec mon oisi-
vet6, mes amusemens, mes occupations. Cela me rejette
dans le monde, et c'est contraire h, tout ce que j'ai toujours
aimfe, en un mot, h, la Liberty. Je fus charmfe quand mon
Pere quitta le Ministere; moi je quittai le Parlement
d'abord que j'en pus saisir le Moment, et assurement c'est
bien centre ma Volenti que je me trouve Courtisan a mon
Age. Je n'en ai ni I'ambition, ni I'interet, ni I'envie, ni
la jalousie, ni la faussetfe ; je cederois gaiement ma place
a Quiconque en voudroit.
Je viens de recevoir une lettre de M. Conway du 19
par un jeune Seigneur Anglais. II dit qu'ils seront de
retour au tems fixe, mais j'ignore quel est ce terns fixe.
II me parle d'une grande Eevolution qui va se faire dans
la mode de s'habiller chez vous, et par consequent chez
nous. II dit qu'il s'agit de se mettre comme les Chevaliers
du St. Esprit — Oh ! pour moi je vous jure que je ne m'y
mettrai point — Je ne suis point fait moi pour m'habiller
comme un Danseur de Corde. A I'Armenienne ', a la bonne
heure: J'aimerai assez k m'enveloper d'un grand manteau
jusqu'aux talons. Je crois qu'on a mal montr6 St. Cyr
h mes parens. Quand j'y fus, on fit repeter des Scenes et
des Dialogues de Mad. de Maintenon aux petites Demoi-
selles, qui les jouerent dans la perfection ; et vous scavez
qu'on me fit present d'une lettre originale de la Fonda-
^ Alluding to Bousseau.
1776] To the Marquise du Beffand 157
trice: J'y fus cinque heures a ma grande contentement,
quoique pas Textreme felicity que je sentois avec vous h
Sceaux ^, ou a la journfee de Livry. Enfin il faut s'enthou-
siasmer h de certaines visions, comme je fais, san quoi Tout
est fade. Aussi ces Songes arrivent ils bien rarement, et
ne sont que pour les Elus. Cela m'arriva une fois apres
avoir ecrit le Chateau d'Otrante. Deux ou trois ans apres
J'allais k I'universit^ de Cambridge, ou j'avois passfe trois
ann^es de ma Jeunesse. En entrant dans un des Colleges
que j'avois entierement oublife, je me trouvois precisement
dans la Cour de mon Chateau. Les Tours, les portes, la
Chapelle, la grande Salle, tout y repondoit avec la plus
grande exactitude. Enfin, I'ldfee de ce College m'etoit
restfe dans la Tete sans y penser, et je m'en etois servi pour
le plan de mon Chateau sans m'en apercevoir ; de sorte que
je croyois entrer tout de bon dans celuy d'Otrante — si vous
aviez etfe a cotfe de moi, je vous aurez frappfe d'extasie,
comme dans le carosse quand vous me racontates voire
visite a Mad. de Coulanges '. Hah ! je n'entre pas au palais
roial avec le meme plaisir !
Couty m'a payfe les Emeraudes : sont elles arrivfees en
bonne santfe ?
La Partie Angloise de ma lettre sera bien courte au-
jourdhui. On a dispute tard hier h la Chambre basse sur
les remontrances des Marchands Americains — mais je n'en
scais point le detail, si non que Charles Fox s'est fort de-
chain^ centre le Seigneur North, et que le Due d'Alva *
s'est distingue pour la cour. On a voulu aussi rayer Charles
premier du Martyrologe : Wilkes a dit qu'il le vouloit bien,
3 Formerly the residence of the fand passed much time at Sceaux in
Dachesse du Maine (Anne Louise her younger days. The life there is
B4n£dicte de Bourbon, wife of the described in the Mimoiree of Madame
legitimated son of Iiouis XIY). de Staal.
Sceaux was a focus of political ' Cousin of Madame de SSvign^.
intrigue towards the end of the * Lord George Germain,
reign of Louis XIT. Madame du Def-
158 To the Marquise du Deffand [l775
ayant toujours observe le jour de sa mort comme fete, et
non pas comme jour maigre : mais la Cour a prevalu dans
I'une et I'autre contestation k une grande plurality de voix.
Ce qui est drole, c'est que la Ville de Birmingham a de-
mands la guerre, parce qu'on y fabrique des epfees et des fusils.
Je finis — il n'y a pas moyen de rencherir sur cet Avis.
1605. To THE Maequise du Deetand.
De Londres, ce 31 Janvier, 1775.
Je vous ecris aujourdhui, au lieu de Vendredy, pour deux
raisons: la premiere, parce que je ne scais si mon cousin
ne sera parti avant I'arrivfee de celle cy ; I'autre que je veux
reprendre les Mardys pour mes jours de poste, parceque vos
lettres arrivant ordinairement les Samedys, je n'y peux
repondre qu'apres sept jours. A I'heure qu'il est, j'ai reeu
Deux, I'une Samedy passfe, I'autre bier au soir; celle cy
ecrite conformement h, votre bontfe ordinaire, et k tos atten-
tions incroyables, pour me parler de Mad. d'Olonne, dont
je commence k rougir, k cause de la peine que je vous ai
donnfee, et de ce que j'ai mis trop d'empvessement pour une
bagatelle. Si le mal n'est fait, n'en parlez pas a la Grand-
maman. La politesse de votre Ami M. de Presle su£Sra,
et je vous prie de Ten remercier extremement ; aussi cet
empressement fera apparemment que Mad. Maiiette y
mettra un prix ridicule se voyant tant pressfee — mais au
vrai j'ai honte de vous en tant parler.
L'Abb^ Bartelemi sera surement obei; c'est le moins
que je peux faire pour vos Amis, apres tout ce que vous
faites pour les miens. Ne doutez pas de leur reconnoissance.
C'est la Verit6 meme que M. Conway, et il me parle con-
stamment de vous en termes dont je ne puis nuUement
douter. 11 conservera cette reconnoissance, il n'est ni
Lettek 1605. — Not in C. ; now first in poBsessiou of Mr. W. R. Parker-
printed (verbatim, et literatim) from Jervie,
original in Walpole's handwriting
1775] To the Marquise du JDeffand 159
jeune ni changeant. II est distrait, il est froid, il n'aura
pas toute la chaleur que vous aimez dans vos Amis, mais
il ne vous oubliera jamais. II ne vous grondera pas, en
vous aimant toujours egalement. Ma M6daille est h, Straw-
berry Hill, ou je n'ai et6 depuis deux mois, k cause de ma
goutte, des visites, et de la Maladie de Monseigneur le
Due ; mais je compte d'y aller Dimanche proohain, et je
rapporterai la medaille pour la faire dessiner. Pour les
visites, j'en avois bien a faire — pour la Politique, je ne
m'en soucie pas, je ne m'en mesle point. Je n'ai aucune
liaison avec nos factions ; j'ai des Amis de I'un et de I'autre
cotfe, j'entends parler des deux Chambres, et j'en mande les
nouvelles a men cousin ; mais je ne scais rien que I'evene-
ment passfe. M. Selwyn vint chez moi I'autre jour, et nous
nous plaignimes de n'entendre parler que de I'Am^rique.
' Hah ! pour moi, dit il, il faut que je prenne un maitre
Americain pour me mettre au ton du monde.'
Son Altesse Eoiale est sortie hier pour prendre I'air. Je
ne crois pas ses poumons attaqufes ; mais il tousse beau-
coup, et je presse son depart.
Je suis tres content de I'etrenne de M. Conway ; le mot
est tres joli, et ce qui est bien plus rare, exactement vrai.
Pourquoi ne pas m'envoyer ses couplets ? avez vous eu peur
de m'humilier, de ce qu'ils valent beaucoup plus que les
miens ? Hah ! je ne suis point envieux, ni jaloux de ma
poesie ; et encore plus eloign^ d'etre fach^ si Ton me pre-
fere mes Amis. Je vous I'ai avou^, j'ai infiniment d'or-
geuil, mais point de Vanitfe. Jamais Auteur ne s'est moins
enthousiasm^ pour ses ouvrages.
Je n'ai rien a mander aujourdhui k mes parens, si vous
les avez encore. Actuellement je ne suis occupy que d'une
Tragedie nouvelle qu'on va donner, et a laquelle je m'in-
teresse beaucoup. Le Sujet est tirfe de la Eevolution de
Portugal en faveur des Bragances. EUe est tres superieure-
160 To the Countess of Upper Ossory [i775
ment ecrite : Le Language admirablement beau, la poesie
charmante — cependant, j'ai peur : L'evenement est connu,
et heureux, par consequent, moins interessant. De plus,
I'Auteur' me paroit peu fait au ressorts du Theatre, et
s'entend plus aux images de la poesie qu'aux characteres ;
ce qui fait qu'il y a des longueurs, et que I'lnteret n'est pas
soutenu. C'est un Irlandois que j'ai autrefois connu, et
qui a beaucoup d'esprit, et ce qui est plus surprenant, il
est naturellement comique, et contrefait dans la perfection.
On m'a persuade de lui faire une Epilogue, dont je ne suis
nullement content. Vous scavez que c'est notre usage im-
manquable de commencer et finir une piece par des pro-
logues et des Epilogues. Ordinairement ces derniers
morceaux sont non seulement gais, mais gaiUards — usage
ridicule, de faire rire ceux qu'on vient d'attrister, et que
je n'ai voulu pratiquer, de sorte que mes vers ne sont que
maussades ; mais comme la Satire, faute d'obscenitfe, nous
rejouit, je me suis un peu mocqu6 de my Lord Chesterfield,
en prenant la defense du beau Sexe ; ce qui fera pardonner
a la platitude de ma poesie. La piece ne sera donnfee que
Samedi en huit. Vous en scaurez la Keussite.
P.S. N'oubliez pas de m'avertir si je me dois habiUer en
danseur de corde I'ann^e qui vient : Mr. Conway m'a an-
noncfe qu'il s'agite chez vous de reprendre I'habillement des
Chevaliers du St. Esprit : vos modes decident les notres.
1606. To THE Countess of Uppee Ossoey.
Feb. 1, 1775.
We are out of pain at present. Madam, about our Eoyal
Highness. He has been out to take the air ; and if I had
any influence, should try that in France immediately ; but
' Bobert iTephsoii.
1775] To the Countess of Upper Ossory 161
he says he should only pass the remaining part of the
winter in bad inns, and thinks of not setting out till April.
I know nothing of news: Lord Chatham is at this
moment preparing some in the House of Lords, which wUl
fm-nish the end of the letter. Last night I was at a ball at
the Lady's Club. It was all goddesses, instead of being
a resurrection of dancing matrons as usual. The Duchess
of Devonshire* effaces all without being a beauty; but
her youth, figure, flowing good-nature, sense, and hvely
modesty, and modest familiarity, make her a phenomenon.
Don't wonder I was at a ball ; I have discovered that I am
a year younger than I thought, yet I shall not use this
year yet, but come out with it a dozen years hence.
Mr. Jephson's tragedy, which I concluded would not
answer all that I had heard of it, exceeded my expectations
infinitely. The language is noble, — the poetry, similes, and
metaphors, enchanting. The harmony, the modulation of
the lines, shows he has the best ear in the world. I re-
member nothing at all equal to it appearing in my time,
though I am Methusalem in my memory of the stage.
I don't know whether it will have all the effect there it
deserves, as the story is so well known, and the happy
event of it known too, which prevents attendrissement.
Besides, the subject in reality demands but two acts, for
the conspiracy and the revolution ; but one can never be
tired of the poetry that protracts it. Would you believe
I am to appear on the theatre along with it? My Irish
friends, the Binghams, have overpersuaded me to write
an epilogue, which was wanting. They gave me the
subject, which I have executed miserably ; but at least
I do not make the new Queen of Portugal lay aside her
majesty, and sell double entendres like Lady Bridget Telle-
mache.
Lettkh 1606. — '^ Georgiana Spencer, Daohees of Devonsliire,
WALFOLE. IX M
162 To the Countess of Upper Ossory [i775
I was still more surprised to find my name in print the
other day: Mr. Barry, the mad Irish painter, has written
a book, and not a mad or insensible one. After talking of
the great masters, he says, ' As to the Dutch school, I leave
it to the deep researches of the Hon. H. W. (at length) or
any other such learned gentleman, if such another can be
found.' Methinks this is a little hard. Madam, seeing
I have been always blamed for undervaluing the Dutch
masters ; but I suppose Mr. Barry has seen me laugh at
some of his extravagancies in the expositions, without my
knowing him. However, I shall say nothing of that, or
anything more to hurt him, if ever I defend myseK from
Dutchism, as perhaps I may. This, I remember, was one
of the stories I promised you — I forget the rest ; but your
Ladyship will remind me when we meet over a syllabub
under the cow.
2nd.
Yesterday's mountain miscarried with more eclat than
last time. Lord Chatham offered a bill for pacifying
America by abrogating the Declaratory Law" and the
late Acts ; and, they say, recalled the memory of his
ancient lustre. Lord Gower reminding him of something
he had said in the other House the Lord knows when,
received a thundering denial, as the gods call it ; but men,
a flat lie. Lord Temple lamented the production of so
mischievous a bill, which yet he would vote to admit out of
respect ; but what signifies repeating the faint efforts of an
old watergall opposed to its own old sun ! The Duke of
Grafton complained of a bill so hurried in. Lord Chatham
replied. His Grace was at least as unfairly eager to hurry it
out. That Duke acquainted the assembly that he differs
with everybody, and has a plan of his own to offer. Lord
"The Declaratory Act of 1766 England over the American colonies,
proclaimed the absolute rights of including the right to tax.
1775] To Sir Horace Mann 163
Shelburne was violent, and Lord Mansfield so violently
frightened, that he was not there ; on which I hear King
George joked before all his servants, when he was told it
after the play. The newspapers, which now are very
accurate in recounting debates, wUl tell your Ladyship
the rest very faithfully to-morrow. When the last Prime
Minister designs to open his plan I do not know; the
present produces his to-day. There is a great deal of
bravery and a great deal of terror stirring ; and the address
of to-day, I am told, has a layer of each. You must prepare,
Madam, to talk America ; there is no other topic to be
heard, and in truth it grows a very grave one. You must
lay aside your botany from the hyssop to the cedar of
Libanus, and study imports and exports, and charters and
geography, and religion and government, and such light
reading : you will have occasion for it all. In a little time
the whole country wUl be so much in earnest, that the
dispute will probably lie in a less compass ; people discuss
at first, but are only angry and personal at last : and to be
sure that is more amusing.
I hope this is the last letter I shall send you before you
land at Hyde Park turnpike. You will have a very good
neighbourhood there; Lord and Lady Apsley" are mighty
agreeable people.
1607. To SiE HoEACE Mann.
Arlington Street, Feb. 15, 1775.
Yotr have been made easy long ago, I hope, about my
gout, and have restored your good opinion to the bootikins,
which reduced it to so short a fit. They could not give you
' Tryphena, daughter of Thomas wards second Earl Bathurst), created
Soawen ; m. (1759), as his second Baion Apsley in 1771. i
wife, Hon. Henry Bathurst (after-
M 2
164 To Sir Horace Mann [i775
an inflammation and swelling ; they probably prevented its
being worse. It is still more idle when people say they
weaken — who was ever not weak after the gout ? I, who
am naturally weaker than anybody, recover my feet so much
that I can stamp on marble with all my force, which I never
saw a gouty person besides able to do. Be assured that the
physicians have set about that nonsensical notion of weaken-
ing, only because the bootikins do the contrary. I com-
plained of weakness on my breast, of which I complained
thirty years before I ever felt the gout, and the apothecary
shook his head, like a knave as he was, and said he had
feared they would have that effect. He had never thought
so, and if he had, ought to have warned me ; but I believe
no Umb of the faculty ever laid in ambush to intercept and
cut off an illness to come. If you still feel weakness, you
must not wonder ; the bootikins cannot make us young
again. I totter as I go downstairs— but I trust I shall
never totter so much as to believe in any faculty. Fools
and knaves hoodwink common sense, and if it was not like
insects, of which no species can be exterminated, it would
not exist upon earth.
The war with our colonies, which is now declared, is
a proof how much influence jargon has on human actions.
A war on our own trade is popular ! Both Houses are as
eager for it as they were for conquering the Indies — which
acquits them a little of rapine, when they are as glad of
what will impoverish them as of what they fancied was
to enrich them — so like are the great vulgar, and the small.
Are not you foreigners amazed? We are raising soldiers
and seamen — so are the Americans ; and, unluckily, can
find a troop as easily as we a trooper. But we are above
descending to calculation ; one would think the whole
legislature were of the club at Almack's, and imagined,
like Charles Fox, that our fame was to rise in proportion.
1775] To Sir Horace Mann 165
to our losses. It is more extraordinary that Charles does
not adopt their system, as they have copied his, but opposes
them, and proposes to make his fortune when they are
bankrupt. In the meantime bad news pours in from
America. T do not believe all I hear— but fear I shall
believe a great deal in spite of my teeth.
Another of your diplomatic brethren is become your
brother in the Bath — Gordon, of Brussels. He is a fool
for a comedy. We have no other news, nor think of any-
thing that is not beyond the Atlantic. You are strangely
old-fashioned to trouble your head about the Conclave ; we
care as much about the Caliphs of Bagdad.
I misinformed you when I said that the Duke and
Duchess of Gloucester had no thoughts of Italy ; they
propose passing next winter at Eome, but will not stop
anywhere else. I say, this is their scheme, and wish it
may be executed ; — but am far from having any sanguine
hopes about his Royal Highness. He does not mend ; his
cough is very bad, and I think he falls away. He will not
leave England till April, because he will inoculate his
children before he carries them abroad. I tremble at the
delay, and have said all I dare to the Duchess against it, as
I am impatient to have him set out, and think no time
should be lost.
As I was writing this I received a most obliging letter
from Sir Horace the second at Nice, on the suit he is
carrying on with my nephew for his most just debt, and
professing all management for me. I have answered it,
and insisted that he should have none for me. It would
be strange indeed if I stood in the way of Gal's son and
your nephew — and where justice too is at stake ! Indeed,
it was by my advice, when I thought Lord Orford past
being hurt by it. At present, all I can do is not to let any
consideration of me interfere — and I charge you, when you
166 To the Bev. William Mason [l775
see him, to convince him that the greatest mark of friendship
he can show me is to do himself right — and that speedily, or
nothing will be left. Surely he is better intituled to his
own than the harpies that prey upon a poor half-witted
man ! I am now going to write a letter to his mother to
ask a trifling favour, which I care not whether she grants
or refuses — but it was at the request of another. Here is
the letter, I beg you to give or send it, accordingly as she
is at Florence or Naples.
1608. To THE Eev. "William Mason.
Arlington Street, Feb. 18, 1775.
Braganza was acted last night with prodigious success.
The audience, the most impartial I ever saw, sat mute for
two acts, and seemed determined to judge for themselves,
and not be the dupes of the encomiums that had been so
lavishly trumpeted. At the third act, they grew pleased,
and interested : at the fourth they were cooled and deadened
by two unnecessary scenes, but at the catastrophe in the
fifth, they were transported. They clapped, shouted,
huzzaed, cried bravo, and thundered out applause both
at the end, and when given out again ; yet the action
was not worthy of the poet. Mrs. Yates shone in the
dignified scenes, but had not variety enough ; Smith,
recalling Garrick in Eichard III, played the Viceroy with
great spirit ; but Eeddish ' was pitiful and whining in the
Duke ; Aikin '' ridiculous in the first old conspirator, and
the Friar totally insignificant, though engaged in the
principal scene in the play, where indeed he has too
little to say. The charming beauties of the poetry were
not yet discovered, and the faults in the conduct may
Letter 1608.— 1 Samuel Eeddish (1735-1785).
2 James Aikin or Aickin (d, 1803),
1775] To the Bev. William Mason 167
be easily mended. In short, I trust, if this tragedy does
not inspire better writers, that it will at least preserve
the town from hearing with patience the stuff we have
had for th^se fifty years. There was an excellent prologue
written by Murphy. For my poor epilogue, though well
delivered by Mrs. Yates, it appeared to me the flattest thing
I ever heard, and the audience were very good in not
groaning at it. I wish it could be spoken no more. The
boxes are all taken for five-and-twenty nights, which are
more than it can be acted this season.
I went to the rehearsal with all the eagerness of eighteen,
and was delighted to feel myself so young again. The
actors diverted me with their dissatisfactions and com-
plaints, and though I said all I could, committed some of
what they call proprieties, that were very improper, as
seating the Duke and Duchess on a high throne, in the
second act, which made the spectators conclude that the
revolution, as I knew they would, had happened. The scenes
and dresses were well imagined, and the stage handsomely
crowded. All this was wanted, for, from the defect in the
subject, which calls for but two acts, several scenes
languished. A little more knowledge of the stage in the
author may prevent this in his future plays. For his
poetry, it is beautiful to the highest degree. He has
another fault, which is a want of quick dialogue ; there
is scarce ever a short speech, so that it wiU please more
on reading, than in representation. I will send it to you
the moment it is published.
There is nothing else new, nor do I hear of anything
coming. The war with America goes on briskly, that is
as far as voting goes. A great majority in both Houses
is as brave as a mob ducking a pickpocket. They flatter
themselves they shall terrify the colonies into submission
in three months, and are amazed to hear that there is no
168 To the Bev. William Mason [i775
such probability. They might as well have excommuni-
cated them, and left it to the devil to put the sentence into
execution.
Good night, and write to me. You are an idle creature,
and I am very jealous of your harpsico-violin — it is your
interleaved Linnaeus '-
1609. To THE Eev. William Mason.
Arlington Street, Feb. 28, 1775.
Thou recreant clerk ; I do not mean for not replying to my
last missive, but for changing thy mind, thou unhallowed
relapse, which I did not know when I wrote to thee last,
or I would not have cockered thee up with a promise of
Braganm ; yet to show thee that I keep faith even with
heretics, thou shalt have it when thou sayest how it may be
sent. Thy sin is too foul to name, but thy conscience tells
thee what I mean. 'Tis an Omission worse than any of the
tribe of Com ; and though posterity will be so selfish as to
forgive it, there is not a Christian in being that ever can ;
oh yes, there are some that could, though I trust they
cannot. I suppose you will be glad to hear that I have got
a codicU to my last gout? I had an inflammation in my
face, and yesterday was blooded for it. It sunk in two
hours, but baited and gave me a sore throat ; this morning
I walked lame, and cannot walk without a stick ; so the
whole is gouty, for that devil can act any distemper, like
a fine lady. It has hindered my going to Strawberry,
whither the fine weather invited me. I wish we ever
had such in summer.
The gates of Janus's temple are open and shut every
' ' Mr. Gray often vexed me by pranking on his lyre.' See letter to
finding him heaping notes on an Lady Ossory, Sept. 8, 1791.
interleaved Linneens, instead of
1775] To the Bev. William Mason 169
other day; the porter has a sad time of it, and desei-ves
a reversion for three lives. "We are sending the Americans
a sprig of olive *, lapped up in an Act for a famine '■* next
year ; for we are as merciful as we are stout. However, as
the two Houses do not much reckon upon bonfires to come,
each is treating itself with one at present, and have ordered
a weekly paper and a pamphlet, each called The Crisis, to be
burnt by the common hangman ; and as contradictions now
go hand in hand, each party has its victim. I have seen
neither of the sacrifices — both they say are very stupid ; the
first is too free with his Majesty ; the second compliments
him with the sole right of taxation. Methinks all Parlia-
ments have a mortal aversion to the word crisis.
Since you left town I have made another considerable
purchase, for which I have been long hagghng, the rest
of the Digby miniatures. They had been divided into
two shares. There is one superb piece of Sir Kenelm,
his wife, and two sons, by Peter Oliver, after Vandyck, in
the highest preservation, and certainly the capital miniature
of the world. I am not quite sure whether you did not see
them two years ago ; but why do I tell you anything ? you
are twiddling your instrument of the composite order, and
care no more than Orpheus whether anybody but beasts
listens to you. You now owe me two letters, and paid
I will be, or I am
Your most obedient
Humble seiTant.
Lkttee 1609. — 1 On Feb. 20 Lord Great Britain, Ireland, and the West
North introduced a oonoiliatciy Indies, and prohibiting them for
motion to allow the colonies to tax a limited time from fishing on the
themselves. banks of Newfoundland, with certain
^ An Act restraining the commerce exceptions in favour of individuals,
of the New England colonies with
170 To the Bev. William Mason [l775
1610. To THE Eet. "William Mason.
March 7, 1775.
If your contempt for your contemporaries extended to
total silence, perhaps I should not disagree with you. There
is dignity in indignation that refuses wholesome food to
a stupid age, that is content with carrion. But why then
publish Gray's Life ? Keep it back till you like to publish
it with the original notes. Leave the Johnsons and Mac-
phersons to worry one another for the diversion of a rabble,
that desires and deserves no better sport.
Here is Braganga : I do not say that either the subject or
conduct are interesting. The language is good, the poetry
charming. Read any tragedy written within these thirty
years, and then wonder that I was delighted to see even
a cousin of Melpomene.
If you have translated Pygmalion^ I shall be very glad
to see him too. If you have only translated the music,
I shall not be much the wiser, yet do not think my igno-
rance makes me supercilious. I admire all your talents,
though not a judge of all. Your writings, your composite
instruments, your drawings are dear to me according to my
degrees of capacity ; and when I seize every opportunity of
drawing you into a correspondence, does not it say that I love
your letters, and do my utmost to cultivate your friendship ?
Yes, I do ; let all the Prime Ministers since my father,
whom you name, say as much if they can ! To my great
sorrow we live at a distance, and when I wish to see you
most, I have seen you least ; yet Strawberry, where you
scarce ever was in summer, is pleasant then. If you would
at any time give me a week, I should think it no trouble to
Letter 1610. — 1 An opera by Eousseau, translated by Mason at Lord
Nuneham's request.
1775] To Sir Horace Mann 171
fetch you. Time grows precious to me, and, therefore,
I would employ it in the way most agreeable to me. Don't
think me importunate, but it shall not be my own fault
if I do not please myself.
Yours most sincerely,
H. W.
1611. To Sir Horace Mann,
Arlington Street, March 20, 1775.
I HAVE not written to you this month, I know: no
symptom of negligence, but from want of matter. You
will say, perhaps, ' but there have been many long days in
Parliament ' : very true ; but long days make small sensa-
tion, when the majorities are very great, and always on
the same side. The Houses go on fulminating against
America; we shall see whether their edicts are regarded,
or rather their troops and generals. The province of New
York seems to be better disposed than the other colonies ;
but we must wait for the re-echo of our new Acts, and for
the Congress in May. In three months we shall hear
whether it will be war or peace. The nation will stare
a little if it is the former. It is little expected, and less
thought of. We are given up to profusion, extravagance,
and pleasure : heroism is not at all in fashion. Cincinnatus
will be found at the hazard-table, and CamUlus at a ball.
The vivacity of the young Queen of France has reached
hither. Our young ladies are covered with more plumes
than any nation that has no other covering. The first
people of fashion are going to act plays, in which come-
dians, singers, dancers, figurantes, might all walk at a coro-
nation. The summer is to open with a masquerade on
the Thames. I am glad the American enthusiasts are so
far off; I don't think we should be a match for them.
We want more Indies ; we cannot aiford to lose any.
172 To Sir Horace Mann [i775
So you have chosen a Pope ' ! Which will he fear most,
France and Spain, or poison ?
The Duke of Gloucester has lost his second daughter ' ;
both were inoculated, that he might carry them abroad.
The youngest was very unhealthy, and died the next day
after the disorder appeared ; the other ', on whom he dotes,
will do well. He is far from being so himself ; coughs, and
falls away. I hope a better climate will save him.
I am wishing for summer ; not to go on the water in
mask, but to escape from this scene of diversions. I mix
in them as little as I can ; they suit neither my age or
inclination. For some years I have loved the month of
June, when I and all the town, for we all live together,
I think, are to part.
I just now hear that Lord Bristol * is dead at the Bath.
He was born to the gout from his mother's family, but
starved himself to keep it off. This brought on paralytic
strokes, which have dispatched him. Will her Grace of
Kingston now pass eldest, and condescend to be, as she
really is. Countess of Bristol ? or will she come over and
take her trial for the becoming dignity of the exhibition in
Westminster Hall ? How it would sound, ' Elizabeth,
Countess of Bristol, alias Duchess of Kingston, come into
court ! ' I can tell you nothing more extraordinary, nor
would any history figure near hers. It shows genius to
strike out anything so new as her achievements. Though
we have many uncommon personages, it is not easy for
them to be superiorly particular. Adieu !
Letter 1611. — ^ Giovanni Angelo ^ Princess Sophia Matilda.
Brasohi, Pope under the name of * George William Hervey, second
Pins VI. Earl of Bristol. Walpole.
2 PrincessCaroIineAngosta Maria.
1775] To the Rev. William Mason 173
1613. To THE Eev. William Mason.
Arlington Street, April 3, 1775i
Well! your book* is walking the town in midday.
How it is liked I do not yet know. Were I to judge from
my own feelings, I should say there never was so entertaining
or interesting a work: that it is the most perfect model
of biography; and must make Tacitus, and Agricola too,
detest you. But as the world and simple I are not often of
the same opinion, it will perhaps be thought very dull.
If it is, all we can do is to appeal to that undutiful urchin.
Posterity, who commonly treats the judgement of its parents
with contempt, though it has so profound a veneration
for its most distant ancestors. As you have neither imitated
the teeth-breaking diction of Johnson, nor coined slanders
against the most virtuous names in story, like modern
historians, you cannot expect to please the reigning taste.
Few persons have had time, from their politics, diversions,
and gaming, to have read much of so large a volume, which
they wUl keep for the summer, when they have full as
much of nothing to do. Such as love poetry, or think
themselves poets, will have hurried to the verses and been
disappointed at not finding half a dozen more Elegies in
a Churchyard. A few fine gentlemen will have read one
or two of the shortest letters, which not being exactly such
as they write themselves, they will dislike or copy next
post ; they who wish or intend to find fault with Gray,
you, or even me, have, to be sure, skimmed over the whole,
except the Latin, for even spite, non est tanti . The
reviewers, no doubt, are already writing against you ; not
because they have read the whole, but because one's own name
is always the first thing that strikes one in a book. The
LiTTKB 1612.— • The Life of Gray.
174 To the Bev. William Mason [l775
Scotch will be more deliberate, but not less angry ; and if not
less angry, not more merciful. Every Hume, however spelt,
will I don't know what do ; I should be sorry to be
able to guess what. I have already been asked why I did
not prevent publication of the censure on David'? The
truth is (as you know) I never saw the whole together
till now, and not that part ; and if I had, why ought I to
have prevented it? Voltaire' will cast an imbelh javelin
sine idu at Gray, for he loves to depreciate a dead great
author, even when unprovoked, — even when he has com-
mended him alive, or before he was so vain and so envious
as he is now. The Eousseaurians will imagine that I inter-
polated the condemnation of his Elo'ise \ In short, we
shall have many sins laid to our charge, of which we are
innocent ; but what can the malicious say against the
innocent but what is not true ?
I am here in brunt to the storm ; you sit serenely aloof
and smile at its sputtering. So should I too, were I out
of sight, but I hate to be stared at, and the object of
whispers before my face. The Maccaronis will laugh out,
for you say I am still in the fashionable world. — ' What ! '
they will cry, as they read while their hair is curling, —
' that old soul ' ; for old and old-fashioned are synonymous
in the vocabulary of mode, alas ! Nobody is so sorry as
I to be in the world's fashionable purUeus ; still, in truth,
all this is a joke and touches me little. I seem to myself
a Strulbrug, who have lived past my time, and see almost
my own life written before my face while I am yet upon
earth, and as it were the only one of my contemporaries
with whom I began the world. "Well; in a month's
time there will be little question of Gray, and less of me.
* See Qray'sletter to James Beattie voL iii. p. 378, note,
of July 2, 1770. * See Gray's letter to Mason of
3 See Worka of Gray, ed. Qosse, Jan. 22, 1761.
1775] To the Rev. William Mason 175
America and feathers and masquerades will drive us into
libraries, and there I am well content to live as an humble
companion to Gray and you; and, thank my stars, not
on the same shelf with the Macphersons and Dalrymples.
One omission I have found, at which I wonder ; you do
not mention Gray's study of physic, of which he had read
much, and I doubt to his hurt. I had not seen till now
that delightful encomium on Cambridge", when empty of
its inhabitants. It is as good as anything in the book, and
has that true humour, which I think equal to any of his
excellencies. So has the apostrophe to Nicholls', 'Why,
you monster, I shall never be dirty and amused as long as
I live,' but I will not quote any more, though I shall be
reading it and reading it for the rest of my life.
But come, here is a task you must perform, and forth-
with, and if you will not write to me, you shall transcribble
to me, or I wUl combustle you. Send me incontinently all
the proper names that are omitted. You know how I love
writing marginal notes in my books, and there is not
a word in or out of the book of which I will be ignorant.
To save you trouble, here is a list of who is's. Page 1 52,
fill up the asterisks ; do. p. 174, do. 206, do. 232, 249, Peer
who is it; 250? do.; the Lady of Quality? 251; the
leader, 275 ; who the asterisk, 282 ? the Dr. who, 283 ?
do. 284 ; the B.'s and E.'s 288, where, whose is Stratton?
290, Lord?
You see my queries are not very numerous. If you do
not answer them I will not tell you a syllable of what the
fashionable say of your book, and I do not believe you have
another correspondent amongst them. At present they are
labouring through a very short work, more peculiarly
addressed to them, at least to a respectable part of them,
' In Gray'a letter to West written ' Eev. Norton Nioholls ; see Gray's
in Deo. 1736. letter to Mm of June 24, 1769.
176 To the Eev. William Cole [i775
the Jockey Club, who, to the latter's extreme surprise, have
been consulted on a point of honour by Mr. Fitzgerald,
which, however, he has already decided himself with as
little conscience as they could do in their most punctilious
moments.
If you will satisfy me, I will tell you the following
hon mot of Foote, but be sure you don't read what follows
till you have obeyed my commands. Foote was at Paris
ia October, when Dr. Murray '' was, who admiring or dread-
ing his wit (for commentators dispute on the true reading)
often invited him to dinner with his nephew *. The
Ambassador produced a very small bottle of Tokay, and
dispensed it in very small glasses. The uncle, to prove how
precious every drop, said it was of the most exquisite
growth, and very old. Foote, taking up the diminutive
glass, and examining it, replied, ' It is very little of its
age.' Keturn me my story if you don't perform the con-
ditions. I wish I could send you anybody's else life to
write !
1613. To THE Eev. William Cole.
Arlington Street, April 11, 1775.
I THANK you, dear Sir, for your kind letter and the good
account you give of yourself — nor can I blame your change
from writing — that is, transcribing to reading — sure you
ought to divert yourself rather than others — though I
should not say so, if your pen had not confined itself to
transcripts.
I am perfectly well, and heed not the weather; though
I wish the seasons came a little oftener into their own
places instead of each other's. From November till a fort-
' The pseudonym adopted by Lord ' Lord Stormont, Ambassador at
Mansfield during his visit to France Paris,
in the preceding autumn.
1775] To the Bev. William Cole 177
night ago, we had warmth that I should often be glad of
in summer — and since we are not sure of it then, was
rejoiced when I could get it. For myself, I am a kind of
delicate Hercules : and though made of paper, have, by
temperance, by using as much cold water inwardly and
outwardly as I can, and by taking no precautions against
catching cold, and braving all weathers, become capable of
suffering by none. My biennial visitant, the gout, has
yielded to the bootikins, and stayed with me this last time
but five weeks in lieu of five months. Stronger men
perhaps would kill themselves by my practice, but it has
done so long with me, I shall trust to it.
I intended writing to you on Gray's Life, if you had not
prevented me. I am charmed with it, and prefer it to all
the biography I ever saw. The style is excellent, simple,
unaffected: the method admirable, artful, and judicious.
He has framed the fragments (as a person said) so weU,
that they are fine drawings, if not finished pictures. For
my part, I am so interested in it, that I shall certainly
read it over and over. I do not find that is likely to be
the case with many yet. Never was a book, which people
pretended to expect so much with impatience, less devoured
— at least in London, where quartos are not of quick
digestion. Faults are found, I hear, at Eton with the Latin
poems for false quantities — no matter — they are equal to
the English — and can one say more ?
At Cambridge, I should think, the book would both offend
much, and please — at least if they are as sensible to humour
as to ill-humour. And there is orthodoxy enough to wash
down a camel. The Scotch and the reviewers will be still
more angry, and the latter have not a syllable to pacify
them — so they who wait for their decisions will probably
miss of reading the most entertaining book in the world —
a punishment which they who trust to such wretched
WALPOLE. IX
178 To the Bev. William Cole [l775
judges deserve, for who are more contemptible than such
judges, but they who pin their faith on them ?
In answer to you, yourself, my good Sir, I shall not
subscribe to your censure of Mr. Mason, whom I love and
admire, and who has shown the greatest taste possible in
the execution of this work. Surely he has said enough in
gratitude, and done far beyond what gratitude could demand.
It seems delicacy in expatiating on the legacy : particu-
larizing more gratitude would have lessened the evidence
of friendship, and made the justice done to Gray's character
look more like a debt. He speaks of him in slender cir-
cumstances, not as distressed — and so he was, tUl after
the deaths of his parents and aunts, and even then, surely
not rich. I think he does somewhere say that he meant
to be buried with his mother, and not specifying any other
place confirms it. In short, Mr. Mason shall never know
your criticisms ; he has a good heart, and would feel them,
though certainly not apprised that he could merit them.
A man who has so called out all his friend's virtues could
not want them himself.
I shall be much obliged to you for the prints you destine
for me. The Earl of Cumberland I have, and will not
rob you of. I wish you had been as successful with Mr. G.
as with Mr. T. ' I mean, if you are not yet paid — now
is the time, for he has sold his house to the Duke of
Marlborough — I suppose he will not keep his prints long :
he changes his pursuits continually and extravagantly — and
then sells to indulge new fancies.
I have had a piece of luck within these two days. I have
long lamented our having no certain piece written by Anne
Boleyn's brother, Lord Eochford. I have found a very
pretty copy of verses by him in the new published second
Lbtteb 1613. — 1 Perhaps Mr. Gulston and Mr. Tyson.
M-'c^.'/i!^/>^>»L . fL
■fiom a,^iran&'na./y Jt> J .meu^,oMj.-f.'.-n- 4 .
1775] To tie Bev. William Mason 179
volume of the Nugae Antiguae^, though by mistake he is
called Earl of, instead of Viscount, Eochford. They are
taken from a MS. dated twenty-eight years after the author's
death, and are much in the manner of Xord Surry's and
Sir Tho. Wyat's poems. I should at first have doubted
if they were not counterfeited, on reading my NoVle
Authors ; but then the blunder of Earl for Viscount would
hardly have been committed. A little modernized, and
softened in the cadence, they would be very pretty.
I have got the rest of the Digby pictures, but at a very
high rate. There is one very large of Sir Kenelm, his
■wife, and two sons, in exquisite preservation, though the
heads of him and his wife not so highly finished as those
I have — yet the boys and draperies are so amazing, that,
together with the size, it is certainly the most capital
miniature in the world. — There are a few more, very fine
too. I shall be happy to show them to you, whenever
you Burnhamize — I mean before August, when I propose
making my dear old blind friend a visit at Paris — nothing
else would carry me thither. I am too old to seek diver-
sions, and too indolent to remove to a distance by choice,
though not so immovable as you to much less distance.
Adieu ! pray tell me what you hear is said of Gray's Life
at Cambridge. Yours ever,
H. W.
1614. To THE Eev. "William Mason.
Arlington Street, April 14, 1775.
What is the perfection of ingratitude? silence. What
is the perfection of gratitude ? silence. Obedience is better
than sacrifice, but obedience may be sacrifice too : judge.
' Compiled from family papers relating to the Haringtons by Eev. Henry
Harington (1755-1791).
V 2
180 To the Rev. William Mason [1775
We are both a little disappointed, are not we? How
could we imagine that a quarto, that contained nothing
but wit, humour, sentiment, truth, morality, reflection,
genuine and original poetry, and the memoirs of two poets,
of which one was a youth without guUe or gall, and the
other a good man through life, should interest the present
age ; especially when such ingredients were arranged with
exquisite taste and judgement, and compose the most
pleasing work, the standard of biography? No, my good
friend, unless folks spare their praises because it would
charm me to hear them, I have been forced to ask what
is thought of Gray's Life. Indeed nobody, without my
avidity, could read it at once, and as it has been published
a fortnight, it was impossible it could keep its station amidst
the torrent of unlively follies that overflow each day. Well,
the best books were certainly never calculated for the
plurality of readers ; or, which is wondrous rare, some very
good judge must be the dictator of the age. StUl it is
a comfort that works of genius are indestructible. They
can neither be overlaid by the dullness of cotemporaries,
nor escape the penetration of subsequent taste in all centuries,
who, like the adepts in chemistry, transmit the secret to
the brotherhood, and preserve the nostrum of the elixir for
those who are worthy of it.
For me, though I recur once or twice a day to the volume,
I have had time to read other things too, as a journey to
Spain and Portugal, by a Mr. Twiss ^, who tells one nothing
in vulgar aims at wit but what Baretti and others have
told, that those kingdoms contain nothing but muleteers
and bad inns, and are as dull and depopulated as countries
must be, where the Inquisition has reigned so long, and
despotism reigns stUl. I have waded through Mr. Tyrr-
Lktteb 1614 1 Eiohard Twiss (1747-1821),
1775] To the Mev. William Mason 181
whit's ■■' most tedious notes to the Canterbury Tales, for
a true antiquary can still be zealous to settle the genuine
shape of a lump of mineral from which Dryden extracted all
the gold, and converted into beautiful medals. I was paid
for my trouble by lighting on this couplet, so applicable
to her Grace of Kingston, —
I graunt it well, I have of non envie,
Who maidenhed preferre to bigamie.
I have dipped into the second volume of Nugae Antiquae,
and was lucky there too, finding a madrigal, not at all
despicable, by the Viscount Eochford (Anne Boleyn's
brother), of whom I had never been able to discover a single
distich. For Macpherson, I stopped dead short in the first
volume ; never was such a heap of insignificant trash and
lies. One instance shall sufSce : in a letter from a spy
to James II there is a blank for a name : a note without
the smallest ground to build the conjecture on, says, ' prob-
ably the Earl of Devonshire ',' pretty well ! yet not content,
the honest gentleman says in the index, 'The Earl of
Devonshire is suspected of favouring the excluded family.'
Can you suspect such a worthy person of forgery? could
he forge Ossian?
I forgot, in excuse for the town, to tell you that it is
very busy about a history of two Perreau's* and a Mrs.
Eudd, who are likely to be hanged for misapplying their
ingenuity. They drew bills, instead of rising from the
piUory to pensions by coining anecdotes against the author
and friends of the Eevolution. As Mrs. Eudd has turned
evidence, I suppose as soon as her husband is executed,
a Thomas Tyrwhitt (1730-1786), ehire.
who first exposed the ' Eowley ' * Daniel and Robert Perreau were
forgeries in print. found gmlty, and hanged in Jan.
s William Cavendish (1641-1707), 1776 ; Mrs. Eudd was acquitted,
fourth Earl and first Duke of DeTon-
182 To the Bev. William Mason [i775
she will have eight hundred a year to educate her
children.
To return to Ossian : is not it evident that the Scots are
of Irish parentage? Hurt at the charge of having never
produced a poet, they forge an epic in prose.
Thank you for answering my queries. I have one more :
who was the person Gray suspected of writing Colman's
and Lloyd's satire"? I imagine, the person mentioned
in the next page. Mr. Chute says, Posterity will not
believe that such a book as yours could be written in this
age, which has so totally lost sight of taste and common
sense. Pray, did you write it now, or when somehow or
other (as woman and the French say) you lived in the
Augustan age?
Since I wrote this, I have gone further into the Nugae
Antiquae, and have found three invaluable letters with ad-
mirable pictures of the courts of that time. They show
clearly what a sad dog Queen Bess was, and K. James what
a sUly bitch. There is a bon mot to the latter of Sir John
Harrington's (translator of Ariosto), who had a great deal
of wit. The son of David ' did much presse for my opinion
touchinge the power of Satane in matter of witchcraft, and
askede me with much gravitie if I did truelie understande
why the devil did worke more with anciente women than
others. I did not refraine from a scurvey jeste, and even
saide (notwithstandinge to whom it was saide) that we
were taughte hereof in scripture, where it is tolde that the
devil walketh in dry places.' Was it possible to make a
better answer to such a foolish question ? Is not this worthy
of being hung up as a companion to Foote's ? bad as the
ages we wot of, they furnish Ions mots at least.
Lord Nuneham has just been here, and says everybody
" Gray at first suspected Eiohard 1754-60. See his letter to Mason of
Pottinger, Under Secretary of State, June 7, 1760.
1775] To Sir Horace Mann 183
he has heard speak of it likes your book; that does not
content me ; they must say as Mr. Chute and I do, that we
will read it for the rest of our lives. Adieu.
Your constant reader,
H. W.
P.S. I forgot to put my letter in the post on Saturday.
1615. To Sib Hoeace Mann.
strawberry Hill, April 17, 1775,
It is more equitable to suppose that my conception is
worn out, than that the world wants events. I tell you of
a nation of madmen, and yet want instances. It is certain,
both that we do not grow sage, and that I have nothing
to say. The town is divided into two great classes, the
politicians and the pleasurists. The first are occupied with
that vast foetus, the American contest ; and wars at that
distance do not go on expeditiously. Wilkes has arrived at
his ne plus ultra ; he has presented a remonstrance " in form
to the Throne ; and, with the magnanimity of an Alexander,
used his triumph with moderation — in modern language,
with good breeding. The younger generation game, dress,
dance, go to Newmarket. Some of them, not juniors all,
learn to sing. Cortez was victorious in our last opera,
Montezuma. I doubt the Americans will not be vanquished
in recitative.
The cause of M. de Guisnes'^ is still going on. The
Lktteh 1615. — ^ On April 10, 1775, Gnines and his former secretary.
Wilkes, as Lord Mayor, presented to The latter, M. Tort, accused the
the King a remonstrance from the Comte of gambling in the funds.
Livery of London against the Ameri- M. de Gnines on his side accused
can Bills. George III owned that Tort of abstracting money and
he had never seen so well-bred a papers, of smuggling, and of corn-
Lord Mayor. municating dispatches to outsiders.
2 A lawsuit between the Comte de Tort was ordered to apologize and
184 To Sir Horace Mann [l775
publications would fill a whole shelf. The Due d'Aiguillon
has, in self-defence, sent forth their correspondence. I
have not read it yet ; he will find it difficult to appear
white in my eyes.
Lady Gertrude Hotham ' (Lord Chesterfield's sister), one
of the few whom perhaps you remember, is dead ; she set
her rufile, and thence the rest of her dress, on fire, and died
of it in ten days. She had wit like all her brothers, but for
many years had been a Methodist. About two years ago,
as the Earl was ill, she went with her Primate, Lady
Huntingdon*, to try to tempt him to one of their seminaries
in Wales, hoping to get at his soul by a cranny in his
health. They extolled the prospects, and then there were
such charming mountains ! ' Hold, ladies,' said he ; 'I don't
love mountains, — when your Ladyship's faith has removed
the mountains, I ^vill go thither with all my heart ! ' What
pity there is nothing of that wit in his letters !
Is it possible this is all I should have to tell you after
a month's silence ? 'Tis well I have made it a rule to be
punctual ; how natural to wait till something should happen,
if I were not a prodigy of regularity ! I am here alone,
courting a coy spring, who sends me a cross answer by an
east wind, and am forced to content myself with the old
housekeeper, a fire. I have books, and prints, and play-
things, and the time passes agreeably, but will not do to
relate. Your letters will be pai-ticularly acceptable, when
you have got your nephew — not that nephews are charming
things, but I am sure you will like yours, though you must
allow for a vast difference in your ideas. You have been
forty years out of England, and can have but a very faint
image of what it is now. You have seen nothing but raw
pay a fine, but neither of the parties Baronet, of Scarborough,
was satisfied by the verdict, and * Lady Selina Shirley, Countess
both appealed. Dowager of Huntingdon. Walpole.
" Widow of Sir Charles Hotham,
1775] To Sir Horace Mann 185
boys and rawer governors. Your nephew has just lived
long enough to be formed on the present scale ; at Florence
one may subsist for a century on the same way of thinking.
He has drops of your and his father's blood, that is, gentle,
humane feelings. Talk to his heart, not to his language.
In short, think that anything you see, and do not approve,
is the growth of the age, and not peculiar to him. When
you discover his father, be sure it is his own. Believe me,
I found him so preferable to his contemporaries, that I
loved him.
The Countess has not deigned to send me an answer —
perhaps will say she has — or perhaps thinks there is a plot
against her, and has written to her lawyers for advice.
Take no notice ; I was totally indifferent whether she
complied with my request or not, but could not refuse
to make it. She must have a marvellous quantity of
cunning if she suspects me of it, who have done nothing
but what my duty compelled me to do against my inclina-
tion. Were her son to relapse, she would see whether
I was so fond of power ! After passing my life in shunning
power and self-interest, I am scarce trying to trick an old
woman out of a living for a man I never saw ! — Do not jog
her, I am content with the reasonable excuse she gives me
of writing to her no more. Adieu !
Arlington Street, April 22 '.
This letter would have set out yesterday if I had come to
town, as I intended : now it cannot depart till Tuesday ;
and for anything it contains, will arrive time enough.
Yours of the 8th met me here, and seems to complain of
my long silence. The beginning of my letter shows I was
conscious it was time to write — and yet I am not aware
that I have ever exceeded the interval of a month, and
^ Printed by Cnnuingham as a separate letter.
186 To Sir Horace Mann [i775
am never so long without writing, if anything material
happens. This whole winter has been passed in condemn-
ing the Americans and preparing punishments for them,
and possibly for ourselves too. Nothing looks as if they
would submit — but mere reasonings and speculations I
never send you. You are mistaken if you think our populace
disturb the ministry in their proceedings. The mob have
not yet entered into the quarrel. The Americans are far
from being popular here. If they are not subdued, or
their refractoriness is attended with any national calamity,
I should think the consequences would be very serious
indeed ! — but I never guess or conjecture — especially in
so wide a field.
I dined to-day at the Exhibition of Pictures, with the
Eoyal Academicians. We do not beat Titian or Guido yet.
Zoffani has sent over a wretched Holy Family. What is he
doing ? Does he return, or go to Eussia, as they say ? He
is the Hogarth of Dutch painting, but, no more than Hogarth,
can shine out of his own way. He might have drawn the
Holy Family well if he had seen them in statu quo. Sir
Joshua Eeynolds is a great painter, but, unfortunately, his
colours seldom stand longer than crayons. We have a
Swede, one Loutherbourg, who would paint landscape and
cattle excellently if he did not in every picture indulge some
one colour inordinately. Horse, dogs, and animals we paint
admirably, and a few landscapes well. The prices of all are
outrageous, and the numbers of professors still greater. We
have an American, West, who deals in high history, and is
vastly admired, but he is heavier than Guercino, and has
still less grace, and is very inferior. We have almost a
statuary or two, and very good architects ; but as Vanbrugh
dealt in quarries, and Kent in lumber, Adam, our most
admired, is all gingerbread, filigraine, and fan -pain ting.
Wyatt, less fashionable, has as much taste, is grander, and
1775] To the Bev, William Cole 187
more pure. We have private houses that cost more than
the Palace Pitti ". Will you never come and see your fine
country before it is undone ?
1616. To THE Eev. "William Cole.
Arlington Street, April 25, 1775.
The least I can do, dear Sir, in gratitude for the cargo
of prints I have received to-day from you, is to send you
a medicine. A pair of bootikins will set out to-morrow
morning in the machine that goes from the Queen's Head
in Gray's Inn Lane. To be certain, you had better send
for them where the machine inns, lest they should neglect
delivering them at Milton. My not losing a moment shows
my zeal — but if you can bear a little pain, I should not
press you to use them. I have suffered so dreadfully, that
I constantly wear them to diminish the stock of gout in my
constitution ; but as your fit is very slight, and will not last,
and as you are pretty sure by its beginning so late that you
wUl never have much ; and as the gout certainly carries off
other complaints, had not you better endure a little, when
it is rather a remedy than a disease ? I do not desire to be \
entirely delivered from the gout, for all reformations do but
make room for some new grievance ; and, in my opinion, \
a disorder that requires no physician is preferable to any
that does. However, I have put relief in your power, and
you will judge for yourself. You must tie them as tight as
you can bear, the fiannel next to the flesh ; and when you
take them off, it should be in bed. Kub your feet with a
warm cloth, and put on warm stockings, for fear of catching
cold while the pores are open. It would kill anybody but
me, who am of adamant, to walk out into the dew in winter
in my slippers in haK an hour after pulling off the bootikins.
^ Palace of the Great Dotes at Florence. Waljpole.
188 To the Rev. William Cole [1775
A physician sent me word, good-naturedly, that there was
danger of catching cold after the bootikins, unless one
was careful. I thanked him, but told him my precaution
was, never taking any. All the winter I pass five days in
a week without walking out, and sit often by the fireside
till seven in the evening. When I do go out, whatever the
weather is, I go with both glasses of the coach down, and
so I do at midnight out of the hottest room. I have not
had a single cold, however slight, these two years.
You are too candid in submitting at once to my defence
of Mr. Mason. It is true I am more charmed with his book
than I almost ever was with one. I find more people like
the grave letters than those of humour, and some think the
latter a little affected, which is as wrong a judgement as
they could make ; for Gray never wrote anything easily
but things of humour. Humour was his natural and
original turn — and though, from his childhood, he was grave
and reserved, his genius led him to see things ludicrously
and satirically ; and though his health and dissatisfaction
gave him low spirits, his melancholy turn was much more
affected than his pleasantry in writing. You knew him
enough to know I am in the right — but the world in general
always wants to be told how to think, as well as what to
think. The print \ I agree with you, though like, is a very
disagreeable likeness, and the worst likeness of him. It
gives the primness he had when under constraint ; and
there is a blackness in the countenance which was like him
only the last time I ever saw him, when I was much struck
with it; and, though I did not apprehend him in danger,
it left an impression on me that was uneasy, and almost
prophetic of what I heard but too soon after leaving him.
Wilson drew the picture under much such impression, and
Letter 1616. — ' The print prefixed to the 4to edibion of the Memoirs of
Gray.
1775] To the Bev. William Cole 189
I could not bear it in my room; Mr. Mason altered it a
little, but still it is not well, nor gives any idea of the
determined virtues of his heart. It just serves to help the
reader to an image of the person whose genius and integrity
they must admire, if they are so happy as to have a taste
for either.
The peep into the gardens at Twickenham is a silly little
book, of which a few little copies were printed some years
ago for presents, and which now sets up for itself as a
vendible book. It is a most inaccurate, superficial, blunder-
ing account of Twickenham and other places, drawn up by
a Jewess'', who has married twice, and turned Christian,
poetress, and authoress. She has printed her poems, too,
and one complimentary copy of mine, which in good breed-
ing I could not help sending her in return for violent
compliments in verse to me. I do not remember that hers
were good ; mine I know were very bad, and certainly
never intended for the press.
I bought the first volume of Manchester ", but could not
read it ; it was much too learned for me ; and seemed rather
an account of Babel than Manchester, I mean in point of
antiquity. To be sure, it is very kind in an author to
promise one the history of a country town, and give one
a circumstantial account of the antediluvian world into the
bargain. But I am simple and ignorant, and desire no more
than I pay for. And then for my progenitors, Noah and the
Saxons, I have no curiosity about them. Bishop Lyttelton
used to plague me to death with barrows, and tumuli, and
Eoman camps, and all those bumps in the ground that do
not amount to a most imperfect ichnography ; but, in good
truth, I am content with all arts when perfected, nor inquire ^
5 Apparently a Mrs. Penny. (See ' The Eistory of Manchester, by
NicholB's Mlustrationa of Literature, John Wliitaker (1735-1808).
vol. vii. pp. 541-2.)
190 To Sir Horace Mann [1775
■ how ingeniously people contrived to do without them — and
I care still less for remains of art that retain no vestiges of
art. Mr. Bryant, who is sublime in unknown knowledge,
diverted me more, yet I have not finished his work, no more
than he has. There is a great ingenuity in discovering all
history (though it has never been vsritten) by etymologies.
Nay, he convinced me that the Greeks had totally mistaken
all they went to learn in Egypt, &c., by doing, as the French
do still, judge wrong by the ear — but as I have been trying
now and then for above forty years to learn something,
I have not time to unlearn it all again, though I allow this
is our best sort of knowledge. If I should die when I am
not clear in the History of the World below its first three
thousand years, I should be at a sad loss on meeting with
Homer and Hesiod, or any of those moderns ia the Elysian
fields, before I knew what I ought to think of them.
Pray do not betray my ignorance : the reviewers and such
litterati have called me a learned and ingenious gentleman.
I am sorry they ever heard my name, but don't let them
know how irreverently I speak of the erudite, whom I dare
to say they admire. These wasps, I suppose, will be very
angry at the just contempt Mr. Gray had for them, and will,
as insects do, attempt to sting, in hopes that their twelve-
penny readers will suck a little venom from the momentary
tumour they raise — but good night — and once more, thank
you for the prints.
Yours ever,
H. W.
1617. To SiE HoEACE Mann.
strawberry Hill, May 7, 1775.
Methinks I am grown an uninteresting correspondent.
Yet I know not how to help it. I never could compose
letters; they were forced to write themselves, and lived
1775] To Sir Horace Mann 191
upon their daily bread. I have not only done with politics,
but politics have done with themselves. They depend on
opposition, as a private dispute does — and there is scarce
any such thing — I mean in these islands. There is, indeed,
beyond the seas an opposition, so big, that most folks call
it a rebellion, which if computed by the tract of country it
occupies, we, as so diminutive in comparison, ought rather
to be called in rebellion to that. All the late letters thence
are as hostile as possible ; and, unless their heads are as cool
as their hearts seem determined, it will not be long before
we hear of the overt acts of war. Our three Generals ' are
sailed, and Gage will have a pretty large army. They say
he is preparing to attack the American magazine. Our stake
is deep, though, like other rebellions, this does not aim at
the capital ; yet it is that kind of war in which even victory
may ruin us. Some of your corps diplomatique menace us
with the great armaments preparing in Spain, but the stocks,
that are no heroes, do not seem to believe them ; and I am
too brave to be frightened before they are. I live a good
deal here, and the Spaniards must be at Brentford before
I shall make the militia of Twickenham turn out. The
map of America I have forgotten, and cannot learn it again
now, but leave it to a younger generation, whose business it
will be.
I have outlived very nearly all the persons that were on the
stage when I came into the world. My cotemporaries seem
going too. I have lost three of them very lately. Lady Milton ',
General Boscawen ', and the Duchess of Montagu *— I don't
believe the latter's death has put the same thoughts into
her widower's head as it has into mine : he will think of
Lbtteb 1617. — ' Q-enerals Bnr- ' Third son of Hugh, first Visoount
goyne, Clinton, and Howe. Falmouth. Walpole.
t 2 Lady Caroline Sackville, daugh- * Mary, second daughter of John,
ter of Lionel, Duke of Dorset, and second Duke of Montagu. Wal-
•wife of Joseph Damer, Lord Milton, pole.
Walpole.
192 To Sir Horace Mann [1775
leaving a young Duke ', before he packs up. The Duchess
has given 7,000Z. a year to her daughter the Duchess of
Buccleuch, and as much to the Duke of Montagu, yet only
for his life, so perhaps she was not very desirous of his
having a son and heir. Another of our number is dying,
the Duchess of Northumberland. Her turtle will not be so
impatient for a mate, as his patent ° does not enable him to
beget Percys^a Master or Miss Smithson would sound like
natural children.
The papers, my only informers, say your new Pope has
opened the cage of the Jesuits, and let them fly. So has
the King of France done for Madame du Barri. I suppose
both will return to their former professions, — different kinds
of intrigues. His Holiness, I suppose, was afraid of follow-
ing his predecessor too soon.
Have not you got your nephew yet ? Pray, when he
leaves you, give him a packet of my letters ; it is long
since I had one, and I take for granted that he will return
by next session.
The present session, say my oracles, is to end this month.
So is the cause of Monsieur de Gruisnes — it is time ; the
controversy amounts to many volumes, and exhausted my
patience ; I could not go through it. His adversary '', I am
^ The Duke's only son, Lord Mon- tun'berlAiid did, and was made a
tagn of Bonghton, died in 1766. The Duke. Soon after Lord Cardigan got
Duke did not marry again. the Dukedom without that limita-
^ Greorge Brudeael, Earl of Cardi- tion, and only lost the precedence
gan, husband of Lady Mary Montagu, he would have had over Lord Cardi-
one of the co-heiresses of Duke John ; gan, who was a senior Barl. Walpole.
and Sir Hugh Smithson, Earl of — The last sentence of this note is
Northumberland, husband of Lady unintelligible as it stands. Horace
Elizabeth Seymour, sole heiress of Walpole no doubt meant that had
Algernon, Duke of Somerset, were to the Earl of Cardigan accepted the
be created Dukes at the same time. Dukedom when it was first offered
but as it was from the pretensions to him, he would have retained his
of their wives, George III rightly precedence over the Duke of North-
would not entail the Dukedoms on umberland, to whom as an Earl he
their children by other wives. The was senior.
Earl of Cardigan would not accept it ^ M. Tort.
on that condition ; the Earl of North-
1775] To Sir Horace Mam 193
told by those who have more phlegm, has lost all temper
and discretion, abuses even his protectors, and the public,
for being against him. This looks well for De Guisnes ;
if anything can pay him for what he has undergone !
What courage any man must have that supports a con-
troversy! It is treating your enemies with everything
that can be said to your prejudice. How can one hate one
enemy more than all ?
As Strawberry furnishes so little, and this letter is not
impatient to set out, I shall carry it to town, and keep it
for more bulk. Yet I must commend myself a little first.
I have finished this house and place these three years, and
yet am content with and enjoy it — a very uncommon case
in a country where nobody is pleased but while they are
improving, and where they are tired the moment they have
done. I choose my house should enjoy itself, which poor
houses and gardens seldom do, for people go on mending
till they die, and the next comer, who likes to improve too,
begins to mend all that has been done. I knew what
I wished ; I have it, and am satisfied — and yet do not
forget that I am one of my cotemporaries ! I have all my
life been blessed with knowing my own mind. I never
wished to be anybody, that is, anything ; and when the
moments have arrived in which I might have been what
I pleased, I resisted them, and persisted in my nothing-
hood. I hated Parliament, resolved to quit it, and did :
was told I should repent, but never have. There ends my
panegyric on myself; and pray don't think it very high-
flown, when the sum of all is, that I am content with
a small house and garden, and with being nobody.
Tuesday, 9th. Mr. Croft tells me your brother is in
affliction for the loss of his eldest daughter, who was
married to Kivington the printer. I did not know he had
WALFOLE. IX O
194 To the Bev. William Mason [l775
an eldest daughter— oh, but yea — and more — all Fitzes* —
but not by the same mother. You and I have no business
to know of more than are in the Court Calendar. This is
all town has added to my stock. Adieu !
1618. To THE Eev. "William Mason.
strawberry Hill, May 7, 1775.
Or all the birds in the air, I like a Freemason best, and
next a physician that gives one pills to purge melancholy.
I am content to be sick, when my medicines are palatable.
I remember the first words of a letter I wrote to you into
Suffolk, and if you do too, repeat them if possible with
exaggeration.
You are the idlest of beings, and never set pen to paper,
or I am an indefatigable correspondent, and plague you
with my letters. I cannot help it. Not that I have any-
thing to say, or any reason for not waiting to hear from
you. The reviews do not know yet what to say to your
book, and so have not mentioned it ; probably they are
afraid of stumbling over the ^olian harp again, and are
weighing every word they write in a pair of lexicon-scales.
Lord Nuneham, who maintained to me at first that every-
body was charmed with your work, does own now that
some folks begin to carp at it, had cause to dislike it, have
had time to whisper their prejudices, no matter. Its merit
does not depend on the competence of the present age :
you have fixed the method of biography, and whoever will
write a life well must imitate you.
You have done another service that you are not aware of.
I, who, simpleton as I was, loved to be an author, am so
ashamed of my own stuff, and so convinced that nobody
but you and Gray could write, have taken shame to myself,
' All natoral children, Walpole.
1775] To the Bev. William Mason 195
and forsworn the press ; yet as I cannot be idle, it is impos-
sible, I have invented a new and very harmless way of
maJcing looks, which diverts me as well, and brings me to
no disgrace. I have just made a new book, which costs
me only money, which I don't value, and time, which
I love to employ. It is a volume of etchings by noble
authors. They are bound in robes of crimson and gold :
the titles are printed at my own press, and the pasting is
by my own hand. What I shall compose next I do not know.
As you too seem to have given over writing, I wish you
would draw for me, or etch ; but with your variety of
talents, perhaps you are making another match between
two musical instruments. Is Mynheer Drum contracted
with Signora Flageolet? or are you contriving how to
make one mouth blow a trumpet, and sing at the same
time? Mr. Bentley was always inventing new dishes by
compounding heterogeneous ingredients, and called it cul-
tivating the Materia Edica ; for you geniuses hate the beaten
road. He never would draw with common colours, or
Indian ink, but being purely indolent too, always dipped
his brush in the first thing he met, no matter whether the
ashes, or the oil and vinegar, or all together, and ten to
one but he tasted too, whether they would not make a good
sauce, for cleanliness was not one of his delicacies.
I have been at all the exhibitions, and do not find that
we are got an inch nearer Raphael than we were. Sir
Joshua has indeed produced the best portrait he ever painted,
that of the Primate of Ireland', whom age has softened
into a beauty : all the painters are begging to draw him,
as they did from Eeynolds's beggar-man. My brother has
given me the view of Gray's tomb and churchyard, very
prettily done, and inspired by Gray's own melancholy.
I have hung it here in my favourite blue room, as a com-
Letteb 1618. — ' Dr. Bichard EobinBon, afterwards Lord Eokeby.
O 2
196 To the Rev. William Mason [i775
panion to Madame de Sevigne's H6tel de Carnavalet, and
call them my Penseroso and Allegro. Sir Edward was
disappointed at your not revising his pentachord ', for you
inventors are jealous gods ; but I assured him you had left
town in a very few days after you were with him.
I am to dine on Monday at the Hotel d'Harcourt '. The
town says the father's kingdom is soon to be invaded by
the Spaniards ; but the ministers, who certainly ought to
know best, swear it is not true ; so to be sure it is not.
I forgot to tell you that our friend Mrs. J).* is one of the
warmest admirers of Gray's Life ; but then she is equally
charmed with Mrs. Chapone's writings, and thinks they
will go a great way towards making the Bible fashionable.
She lent them to me, but alas ! they could not have so
much effect on me, had I wanted it, for I could not read the
Madam's works themselves.
Have you had your summer, as we have? The fine
ladies did not dare to ride on the causeway from Wednesday
was se'nnight till last Friday, for fear of being tanned.
We are now relapsed to fires. Adieu.
Yours most devotedly,
H. W.
P. S. I like the Hdtel d'Harcourt ; it has grand air and
a kind of Louis XIV old-fashionhood that pleases me.
There is a large garden and new parterre, and we want
some treiUage if the Irish Exchequer would afford it. Lord
N. says Oxford pouts at you as well as Cambridge. Lord
' An instrument invented by Sir myself lately with Mr. Maaon'a pub-
Edward Walpole. lioation of Mr. Gray's Memoirs and
' Haroourt House, in Cavendish liked them extreamly. Mr. Mason's
Square. zeal for hia friend is very amiable.'
* Doubtless Mrs. Delany, who was Mrs. Delany was also an admirer of
on very friendly terms with both the works of Mrs. Hester Chapone
Mason and Walpole. Shewrotetoher (1727-1801), nie Mulso, authoress of
brother, Mr. Granville (apparently Letters o» the Improvement of the
in the year 1775), 'I have amused Hind.
1775] To Sir Horace Mann 197
Lyttelton does not admire. Mr. Palgrave, who was here
this morning, says all the world admires, which is more
than I demand. Pray, because you have written the 'book,
do you never design to write anything else ? Is the English
Garden to be a fragment, and do you expect that anybody
should finish it and write your life, as well as you have
done both for Gray ?
1619. To Sib Hoeace Mann.
strawberry Hill, May 17, 1775.
If you could not help writing, my dear Sir, to tell me
of your nephew's arrival, I can as little help wishing you
joy of it, though I wrote to you but last week. I told you
how pleased and charmed you would be with him ; and
you must allow I am a good judge of the harmony of such
natures as yours and his. Keep him as long as you can,
and may the pure air of Florence restore Lady Lucy's'
health !
I have nothing of news to add to my last. The ministers
are easy about the Spanish fleet. For France, she has
business of her own. There have been great tumults even
in Paris on the dearness of corn. The Bang is already
angry with his restored Parliament, who, fancying itself
restored to liberty, took upon itself to examine the rioters.
The new Well-beloved posted to his lit de justice, but was
in such a passion that, though he attempted it four times,
he could not speak ; others may fancy he wanted words
from more causes than one. I saw a gentleman the other
day just arrived from Paris, who says the clergy are sus-
pected of having excited the commotions. The ministers,
who fear the return of the Due de Choiseul, choose to
impute them to him.
Lbttee 1619.— 1 Lady Lucy Mann, wife of the younger Sir Horace.
198 To Sir Horace Mann [i775
When I came out of town Lord Temple was thought
dying \ The Duchess of Northumberland is still alive.
By what you say of Mr. Seymour', the Pretender and
his wife should be at Paris ; is that so ? All the English
seem to be in love with her : at least the future Lord
Temple * was so.
You have not more masquerades in carnival than we
have ; there is one at the Pantheon to-night, another on
Monday ; and in June is to be a pompous one on the water,
and at Eanelagh. This and the first are given by the
club called the Sgavoir Vivre, who till now have only shone
by excess of gaming. The leader is that fashionable orator
Lord Lyttelton ^, of whom I need not tell you more. I have
done with these diversions, and enjoy myself here. Your
old acquaintance, Lord and Lady Dacre, and your old friend
Mr. Chute, dined with me to-day : poor Lord Dacre ' is
carried about, though not worse than he has been these
twenty years. Strawberry was in great beauty ; what joy
I should have in showing it to you ! Is this a wish I must
never indulge ? Alas !
1 have had a long chain of thoughts since I wrote the
last paragraph. They ended in smiling at the word never.
How one pronounces it to the last moment ! Would not
one think I counted on a long series of years to come ?
Yet no man has the termination of all his views more
before his eyes, or knows better the idleness of framing
visions to oneself. One passes away so soon, and worlds
succeed to worlds, in which the occupiers build the same
castles in the air. What is ours but the present moment ?
And how many of mine are gone ! And what do I want
2 He lived until 1779. He became the third EarL
* Henry Seymovir, of Knoyle, Wilt- ^ Thomas, second Lord Lyttelton ;
shire. Mann mentioned that he ad- he had been at Florence. Walpole,
mired the Countess of Albany. 8 Thomas Lennard Barrett j his
^ Eichard Grenville, who became wife was sister of Lord Camden,
the second Earl Temple. Waljpole. — Walpole.
1775] To Sir Horace Mann 199
to show you ? A plaything-vision, that has amused a poor
transitory mortal for a few hours, and that will pass away
like its master! Well, and yet is it not as sensible to
conform to common ideas, and to live while one lives?'
Perhaps the wisest way is to cheat oneself. Did one.
concentre all one's thoughts on the nearness and certainty \
of dissolution, all the world would lie eating and sleeping
like the savage Americans. Our wishes and views were \
given us to gild the dream of life, and if a Strawberry Hill 1
can soften the decays of age, it is wise to embrace it, and
due gratitude to the Great Giver to be happy with it. The
true pain is the reflection on the numbers that are not so
blessed ; yet I have no doubt but the real miseries of hfe
— I mean those that are unmerited and unavoidable, —
will be compensated to the sufferers. Tyrants are a proof
of an hereafter. Millions of men cannot be formed for the
sport of a cruel child.
How happy is the Pretender in missing a crown ! When
dead, he will have all the advantage that other kings have,
the being remembered ; and that greater advantage, which
kings who die in their childhood have, historians will say,
he would have been a great king if he had lived to reign ;
and that greatest advantage which so very few of them have,
his reign will be stained with no crimes and blunders. If
he is at Florence, pray recommend me to him for his his-
torian ; you see I have all the qualities a monarch demands,
I am disposed to flatter him. You may tell him too what
I have done for his uncle Eichard III', The deuce is in
it if I am not qualified for a Eoyal Historiographer, when
I have whitewashed one of the very few whom my
brethren, so contrary to their custom, have agreed to
traduce. Adieu !
' Alluding to Ms Historic Doubts concerning Eichard III.
200 To the Rev. William Mason [i775
22nd.
Our papers will tell you, or your own, that the Queen of
Denmark is dead — happily for her, I think, if she had any
feeling. They say it was a rapid putrid fever. I know no
more of it, for I am but this moment come to town to get
my mourning.
1620. To THE EEt. William Mason.
May 27, 1775.
To Mrs. Crewe \
By the Honourable Charles Fox.
Where the loveliest Expression to Feature is join'd.
By Nature's most delicate pencil design'd,
Where Blushes unbidden and Smiles without Art
Speak the sweetness and feeling that dwell in the heart ;
Where in Manners enchanting no Blemish we trace,
But the Soul keeps the Promise we had from the Face,
Sure Philosophy, Reason, and Coldness must prove
Defences unequal to shield us from Love.
Then tell me, mysterious Enchanter, teU
By what wonderful Art, or by what magic Spell,
My Heart is so fenc'd, that for once I am wise
And gaze without Madness on Amoret's eyes:
That my Wishes which never were bounded before,
Are here bounded by Friendship, and ask for no more.
Is it Eeason? No, that my whole Life will belie.
For who so at variance as Eeason and I?
Is't Ambition that fills up each Chink of my Heart,
Nor allows to one softer Sensation a Part?
Ah ! no ! for in this all the World must agree.
That one Folly was never sufficient for me.
Is my Mind on Distress so intensely employ'd?
Or by Pleasure relax'd or Variety cloy'd ?
Letter 1620. — i Frances (d. 1818), -who was created Baron Crewe in
daughter of Fulke Greville ; m. (1766) 1806.
John Crewe, of Crewe HaU, Cheshire,
1775] To the Bev. William Mason 201
For, alike in this only, Enjoyment and Pain
Both slacken the Springs of the Nerves which they strain.
That I've felt each Reverse that from Fortune can flow,
That I've tasted each Bliss which the Happiest know,
Has still been the whimsical Fate of my Life,
Where Anguish and Joy have been ever at strife.
But though vers'd in th' extremes both of Pleasure and
Pain,
I am still but too ready to feel them again.
If then for this once in my Life I am free,
And escape from a Snare might catch wiser than me,
'Tis that Beauty alone but imperfectly charms,
For though Brightness may dazzle, 'tis Kindness that warms.
As on Suns in the Winter with Pleasure we gaze.
But feel not their force, though their Splendour we praise;
So Beauty our just Admiration may claim,
But Love, and Love only, our Hearts can inflame.
As I design to be very temperate in writing to you, you
would not receive so sudden a return to yours, were it not
to send you the foregoing verses, which, though current, are
not yet got into the papers or magazines. I think you will
like the ease and frankness of the lines, though they are
not poetic: in that light, and as characteristic, they are
pretty original — so they are for being love-verses without
love ; the author's reason for not having which is the
worst part ; and if poetry was peremptory logic, the in-
ference would be that you must be in love with a woman
before you can desire her : at least she must be in love with
you, which I take to be seldom the case.
1 am to have a longer copy of verses by Fitzpatrick ',
which I expect to like much, since he writes as easily as his
friend, and is a more genuine poet. Lord Carlisle has
written some too, to his wife's sister, Lady Louisa Leveson ■ :
2 Dorinda, a Toum Eclogue, printed ' Lady Louisa Leveson-Gower,
at Strawberry Hill, as were Fox's daughter of second Earl Gower
verses. (afterwards Marquis of Stafford) ;
202 To the Rev. William Mason [i775
I shall have them too, as a noble author's — but I have
seen them and they are not worth sending ; no more
than some by Lord Palmerston, occasioned by others
written some time ago by the Duchess of Devonshire when
a girl to her father. These are a greater rarity, and I am
laying out for them. Thank my stars I have done both
with authorship and noble authors, for my Lord Lyttelton
has printed a speech, though I thought we should not have
had his till his execution. It is a poor affair, void of argu-
ment and grossly abusive on Lord Camden. It will be as
difBoult for the court to uphold his oratory as his character,
if he has recourse to the press.
Burke has printed a second speech *, which I prefer much
to his first. It is grave, solid, temperate, and chaster from
' , exuberant imagination. If his fancy breaks out, it does not
S soar above the third heaven and come tumbling down flat.
Apropos to authors, the husband ° of Mrs. Montagu of
Shakespeareshire is dead, and has left her an estate of seven
thousand pounds a year in her own power. Will you come
and be a candidate for her hand ? I conclude it will be
given to a champion at some Olympic games, and were
I she, I would sooner marry you than Pindar.
The history of the heroine Kingston, as registered in our
daily chrom'cles, is literally authentic, and so is the respect
paid to her in the King's Bench, though, I suppose, penned
by herself,
For little Brimstones oft submit to fate.
That great ones may enjoy the world in state.
The intrepidity of her countenance, while her indictment
was being read, was worthy of Joan of Arc. I am per-
suaded she will avoid any further trial.
m. (1777) Sir Archibald Macdonald, * On Conciliation with America,
afterwards Chief Baron of the Ex- ^ Edward Montagu, greuidson of
chefjuer. first Eajl of Sandwich.
1775] To Sir Horace Mann 203
Thank you for your Oxonian anecdotes, but alas! they
may be paralleled all over the kingdom. In return I will
wi-ite next week to France for the two tracts^ you wot of:
you shall not be idle for want of anything I can pimp for.
I am happily embarked on two vast folios of the History
of Dorsetshire, which I prefer to every author of the age but
one. I have picked up some excellent narratives of •
Mr. Bruce, but have not room for them ; but here is what
is better. He was asked before George Selwyn if thej'
Abyssinians have any music? he replied, 'They have one I
lyre.' Selwyn whispered his neighbour, 'They have one ^
less since he left their country.' Adieu ! I remove to
Strawberry to-morrow.
Yours ever,
H. W.
1621. To Sib Hoeaoe Mann.
strawberry Hill, June 5, 1775.
I AM delighted in your satisfaction with your nephew ;
and now begin to fear the pain you will have in parting
with him and his amiable family. The Emperor's pre-
sence will not compensate the loss, for you feel more in
your private capacity than your public, though you are so
excellent a diplomatique. You must lower your royal crest
a little, for your Majesty's forces have received a check in
America ; but this is too sad a subject for mirth. I cannot
tell you anything very positively: the ministers, nay the
orthodox Gazette, holds its tongue. This day se'nnight it
was divulged by a London Evening Post extraordinary,
that a ship on its way to Lisbon happened to call at Eng-
land, and left some very wonderful accounts, nay, and
affidavits, saying, to wit, that General Gage had sent nine
' Watelet's Essay on Gardening, and Chabanon's Sur la Manie des Jardins
Anglais.
204 To Sir Horace Mann [1775
hundred men to nail up the cannon and seize a magazine
at Concord ' ; of which the accidental captain owns, two
cannon were spiked or damaged. An hundred and fifty
Americans, who swear they were fired on first, disliked
the proceeding, returned blows, and drove back the party.
Lord Percy was dispatched to support them, but new re-
cruits arriving, his Lordship sent for better advice, which
he received, as it was, to retire, which he did. The King's
troops lost an hundred and fifty, the enemy not an hundred.
The captain was sent for to be examined, but refused. He
says Gage sent away a sloop four days before he sailed,
which sloop, I suppose, is gone to Lisbon, for in eight days
no news of it. The public were desired by authority to
suspend their belief; but their patience is out, and they
persist in believing the first account, which seems the
rather probable, in that another account is come of the
mob having risen at New York, between anger and
triumph, and have seized, unloaded, and destroyed the
cargoes of two ships that were going with supplies to
Gage ; and, by all accounts, that whole continent is in
a fiame.
So here is this fatal war commenced !
The child that is unborn shaU rue
The hunting of that day !
We are perfectly easy about Spain's armada, and say that
too is bound for Lisbon. The Prince of Masserano is arrived,
and no doubt condemns our rebellious colonists highly.
Those gentlemen do not seem to be at all afraid of your
question, whether they could not be Sent for over, and tried.
A colonel of their militia has sworn before a justice of
peace that he ordered his men to fire on the King's troops.
Letter 1621. — 1 The skirmish at tween the regular troops and the
Lexington on April 19, 1775, the Americans,
first fighting which took place be-
1775] To the Rev. William Cole 205
and has sent over a copy of his affidavit — perhaps in hopes
of being knighted.
"Well, we don't mind all this — we the nation. We go on
diverting ourselves, and are to have a regatta on the Thames
the end of this month. The French are grown philosophes,
and we dance. Tell your sorrowful friend Mrs. Pitt, and
the afflicted widow, that English ladies cry no longer. Low
spirits are out of fashion. We have transplanted every
folly under the heavens hither. We have had fandangos,
and festinos, and regattas. If the Americans provoke us,
we will sail forth in our Bucentaur and cuckold them with
their spouse the Atlantic.
This is a gazette extraordinary, so need not be long ;
besides, I have been here these four days all alone, and
know nothing but what the newspapers tell me. If it was
not for you, I should not know there was such a person in:
the world as the Emperor. Our neighbour King Louis is
gone to be crowned. He was besieged for three days in
Versailles by twenty thousand men, and in danger of Lord
Peterborough's ' sacre, who, when he was shown the Sainte
Ampoule at Eheims, and the monk asked him, ' Monsieur,
est-ce que vous sacrez vos Eois ? ' replied, ' Non, Monsieur, i
nous les massacrons.' Insurrections in France ! insurrec-i
tions in Bohemia ! insurrections in America ! methinks the
world is subject to centenary fevers ! Adieu ! the Horatii !
I quite enjoy your mutual satisfaction in each other.
1622. To THE Eev. "William Cole.
strawberry Hill, June 5, 1775.
I AM extremely concerned, dear Sir, to hear you have
been so long confined by the gout. The painting of your
house may, from the damp, have given you cold — I don't
2 Oharlea Mordaunt, Earl of Peterborougli, celebrated by Pope. Walpole.
206 To the Bev. William Cole [i775
conceive that paint can affect one otherwise, if it does not
make one sick, as it does me of all things. Dr. Heberden,
as every physician, to make himself talked of, will set up
some new hypothesis, pretends that a damp house, and
even damp sheets, which have ever been reckoned fatal,
are wholesome ; to prove his faith he went into his own
new house totally unaired, and survived it. At Malvern
they certainly put patients into sheets just dipped in the
spring — however, I am glad you have a better proof that
dampness is not mortal : and it is better to be too cautious
than too rash. I am perfectly well and expect to be so
for a year and a half — I desire no more of the bootikins
than to curtail my fits.
Thank you for the note from North's life, though, having
reprinted my Painters, I shall never have an opportunity
of using it. I am still more obliged to you for the offer
of an index to my Catalogue — but, as I myself know exactly
where to find everything in it, and as I dare to say
nobody else will want it, I shall certainly not put you
to that trouble.
Dr. Glynn will certainly be most welcome to see my
house, and shall, if I am not at home. Still I had rather
know a few days before, because else he may happen to
come when I have company, as I have often at this time
of the year, and then it is impossible to let it be seen, as
I cannot ask my company, who may have come to see it
too, to go out, that somebody else may see it, and I should
be very sorry to have the Doctor disappointed. These
difficulties, which have happened more than once, have
obliged me to give every ticket for a particular day ; there-
fore, if Dr. Glynn will be so good as to advertise me of the
day he intends to come here, with a direction, I will send
him word what day he can see it.
I have just run through the two vast folios of Hutchins's
1775] To the Rev. William Cole 207
Dorsetshire. He has taken infinite pains; indeed, all but
those that would make it entertaining.
Pray can you tell me anything of some relations of my
own, the Burwells? My grandfather married Sir Jeffery
Burwell's daughter, of Eougham in Suffolk. Sir Jeffery's
mother, I imagine, was daughter of a Jeffery Pitman, of
Suffolk ; at least I know there was such a man as the
latter, and that we quarter the arms of Pitman. But
I cannot find who Lady Burwell ', Sir Jefifery's wife, was.
Edmondson has searched in vain in the Heralds' Office,
and I have outlived all the ancient of my family so long,
that I know not of whom to inquire, but you of the
neighbourhood. There is an old walk in the park at
Houghton, called Sir Jeffery's Walk, where the old gentle-
man used to teach my father. Sir Eobert, his book. Those
very old trees encouraged my father to plant at Houghton,
when people used to try to persuade him nothing would
grow there. He said, ' Why will not other trees grow as
well as those in Sir Jeffery's Walk ? ' Other trees have
grown to some purpose ! Did I ever tell you that my
father was descended from Lord Burleigh? The latter's
grand-daughter, by his son Exeter, married Sir Giles
Allington, whose daughter married Sir Eobert Crane, father
of Sir Edward Walpole's wife. I want but Lady Burwell's
name to make my genealogic tree shoot out stems every
way.
I have recovered a barony in fee, which has no defect
but in being antecedent to any summons to Parliament,
that of the Fitz Osberts ; and on my mother's side it has
mounted the Lord knows whither, by the Philipps's to
Henry VIII, and has sucked in Dryden for a great-uncle ;
and by Lady Philipps's mother, Darcy, to Edward III,
Lettsb 1622. — 1 She was the daughter of Thomas Derehaugh, of Colston
HaU, Suffolk.
208 To the Bev. William Mason [1775
and there I stop, for brevity's sake — especially as Edward
III is a second Adam ; who almost is not descended from
Edward ? as posterity will be from Charles II and all the
princes in Europe from James I. I am the first antiquary
of my race — people don't know how entertaining a study
it is. Who begot whom is a most amusing kind of hunt-
ing ; one recovers a grandfather instead of breaking one's
own neck — and then one grows so pious to the memory
of a thousand persons one never heard of before. One
finds how Christian names came into a family, with a world
of other delectable erudition. You cannot imagine how
.Vexed I was that BlomfieW died before he arrived at
Houghton — I had promised myself a whole crop of notable
ancestors — but I think I have pretty well unkennelled them
myself. Adieu ! dear Sir.
Yours ever,
H. W.
P. S. I found a family of Whaplode in Lincolnshire who
give our arms, and have persuaded myself that Whaplode
is a corruption of Walpole, and came from a branch when
we lived at Walpole in Lincolnshire.
1623. To THE Eev. "William Mason.
Arlington Street, June 12.
I RECOMMEND this with your two tracts on gardening ' to
Mr. Eraser; you see I hasten to send you straw, that
your brick-kiln may blaze. I shall send you soon Fitz-
patrick's Town Eclogue, from my own furnace. The verses are
charmingly smooth and easy, but I am much mistaken
^ Bav. Francis Blomefield (1705- amongst letters of 1774. (See Notea
1752), who died before lie had com- and Queries, Oct. 9, 1897.)
plated his Biatory of Norfolk. i See note on letter to Mason of
Letter 1623.— Misplaced by C. May 27, 1775.
1775] To the Bev. William Mason 209
if you like them so well as Charles Fox's, as the former
have certainly no novelty to recommend them, though
there is one line about squeezing^ that is delightful.
The Manie des Jardins Anglois is very silly, and unpoetic
even for French verse. T'other author' has stolen all his
ideas from us, and is ungrateful, is very French too, absurd
and superficial, meaning to be philosophic ; has no idea of
situation, but thinks it can be made ; and in reality does
not conceive helping or improving nature, but would make
puppet-shows for different ranks. He puts me in mind
of one of his countrymen, who seeing some of ours hang
up their hats on a row of pegs at a tavern, said, ' On voit
bien que c'est une nation qui pense.' I think they are ten
times more foolish since they took to thinking.
By the waters of Babylon we sit down and weep, when
we think of thee, O America ! Tribulation on tribulation !
Since Gage's defeat, eighteen, some say twenty-eight
thousand men have invested Boston ; ten thousand more
are on their march from Ehode Island. Two ships laden
with provisions for him have been destroyed at New York,
and all his Majesty's friends turned out thence. N'ous ne
sgavons plus a quel saint nous vouer. The City says there
must be a pacification and a change of actors. Much good
may it do those who will read their parts ! Old Garrick*
perhaps will return to the stage, because he has no time
to lose : — however, the manager's company " talks of a troop
of Hessians, &c.
I have got another noble author, Lord Mahon. He
writes on the gold coin; if he can make gold as well as
coin, he will be of great use to his father-in-law Garrick,
and a very good prop to his administration. Your old
2 • And oh ! what bliss, when ejioh alike is pleased,
The hand that squeezes, and the hand that's squeezed.'
» A M. Watelet. * Lord Chatham, ' The Ministry.
WALPOLE. IX p
210 To Viscount Nuneham [i775
Pollio' is returned very lean and very deaf. Considering
all things, methinks you might now hold a lodge, Mr.
Mason. Adieu !
P.S. Here is the Eclogue.
1624. To Viscount Nuneham.
strawberry Hill, June 14, 1775.
Having been absent hence a few days, I have but just
now received your Lordship's most kind note with the
direction, or should certainly have thanked you sooner,
as I do most gratefully. I shall as gladly obey your
commands before you go to Ireland, and will take the
liberty of writing to know if my visit will not be unseason-
able.
I am exceedingly concerned to hear of Lady Nuneham's
loss ^, and when it is proper will entreat your Lordship to
say how very much I interest myself in whatever touches
her Ladyship.
Mr. Fitzpatrick has written a Town Edogue, and has let
me print it. The subject is not new, but as the versifica-
tion is very good, I thought it might divert a melancholy
quarter of an hour at Nuneham, and therefore enclose.
I know it is not just the moment for mentioning it, or
I would say how very preferably my press might be em-
ployed, if I could have my earnest wish. How sincerely
do I say what is reduced to a common ceremony, that I am
with the greatest regard your Lordship's, &c.
" Lord Holdernesse. sister, Hon. Catherine Vernon, third
Lbttbe 1624. — 1 The death of her daughter of first Baron Vernon.
1775] To the Countess of Upper Ossory 211
1625. To THE Countess of Uppee Ossoet.
Friday night, 11 o'clock, June 28, 1775.
You was much in the right indeed. Madam, not to come
to town for the foolish regatta, as I did, and of which
I have seen no more than I do now. I went at six o'clock
to Eichmond House, and it was beautiful to see the Thames
covered with boats, barges, and streamers, and every window
and house-top loaded with spectators. I suppose so many
will not meet again till the Day of Judgement, which was
not to-day.
In the middle of the river was a street of lighters and
barges covered with pent-houses Uke a carpenter's yard,
which totally prevented all the other millions seeing any-
thing. The rowers passed through this street, and so we
never beheld them at all. It rained once or twice and
cleared the gardens and shores, and now all the company
is stewing in Eanelagh. A great deal of the show was
spoilt by everybody being in black ; it looked like a general
mourning for Amphitrite, rather than for the Queen of
Denmark. The corps diplomatique was in the Lord Mayor's
barge. There are such tides of people in the streets, that
I could scarce pass home. I feel as glad to be returned
as I did from the Coronation, and I think will go to no
more sights.
I know nothing more to tell your Ladyship. The town
says it expects an embassy to Lord Chatham. I will not
come to see his entry, for I have still less curiosity about
ministers than puppet-shows. In truth I grow so old or
so indolent, or so both, that I prefer the tranquillity of
Strawberry to^ almost everything. But I will not tire your
Ladyship with my own negativeness. I write only to
prove what I hope is not necessary, how constantly you are
P 2
212 To Sir Horace Mann [i775
in my mind, and that I would tell you anything amusing if
I knew it.
1626, To Sir Hoeace Mann.
Arlington Street, July 6, 1775.
A MONTH is elapsed since I wrote to you, I know ; nor
am I eager to resume the correspondence, when I have
nothing pleasant to tell you. Indeed, can the events of
a civil war ever be welcome news? One must be deeply
embarked on one side or the other, if one ever rejoices.
They who wish well to the whole can have but one
cheerful moment, which is that of peace — a moment that
seems at great distance ! I know no details, for I inquire
not after them. The general complexion is war. All
advices speak the Americans determined, and report says
the Government here intends to pursue the same plan.
I told you at first I thought you and I should not see
the end of this breach ; and if we do not, I know what
posterity will see, the ruin of both countries, at least
of this. Can we support the loss of America, or a long
war?
There is a black cloud nearer. The Livery of London
have begun a quarrel with the King, and have actually
proclaimed war on his ministers, as you will see by the
papers. I do not take panic ; but, if any blow should
happen from America, the mob of London is a formidable
foe on a sudden : a minister may be executed before he
is impeached ; and, considering the number of American
merchants in the City, and of those who have connections
in America, riots may be raised : but I hate to prophesy.
I have always augured ill of this quarrel, and washed my
hands of it. It has made me resume a thought, which
my age and indolence do not incline me to, another journey
to Paris. You will, perhaps, hear I am setting out before
1775] To the Countess of Upper Ossory 213
my usual period of writing. There is another person'
going abroad that rejoices me more, and who, I am sure,
had better be out of England at this crisis. He is extremely
well at present, yet certainly should not risk the winter
here; he proposes to pass the next at Eome. I should
like myself to spend it at Paris, but dare not hazard the
gout out of my own house, unless things grow still more
serious. I have long been sick of politics ; when they
are so very grave, they are painful ; and though I have
nothing to do with them, the ill-humour they occasion,
and the perpetual discourse on them, are exceedingly
disagreeable to one whose whole wishes are centred in
repose.
I am come this morning from Lord Dacre's \ where I lay
last night, and retui'n to my peaceful hill to-morrow. I will
not read history there, but romances ; and if the present
age is determined the former shall be written in bloody
characters, I will read as little of it as I can. During
the first part of my life all was peace and happiness.
The middle was a scene of triumph. I am sorry to think
the last volume so likely to resemble a considerable part
of our story. Who can wish to have lived during the wars
of York and Lancaster ; or from 1641 to 1660?
1627. To THE Countess op Uppee Ossoey.
Arlington Street, July 7, 1775.
It is strange to say. Madam, that I who generally know
my own mind as soon as I have a mind, and who am a veiy
methodical general, have not yet settled the plan of my
operations for my summer campaign. One of my expeditions
will certainly be to Ampthill ; but I cannot precisely say
Lettkb 1626.— 1 The Duke of Gloucester.
2 Belhus, in Essex.
214 To the Countess of Upper Ossory [i775
when, as I have not fixed the day when my squadron is to
sail for the coast of France, which is to be the great cowp of
my measures. I do not stay to join or to watch the Spanish
Armada, nor wait for the result of the American Congress ;
but a little business of my own throws uncertainty into
all my deliberations, and is so little a business, that, like
greater men, I am forced to disguise the true cause, and
give it dignity by a veil of mystery. I have indeed already
taken the field, for I came yesterday from Lord Daere's, in
Essex, where I stayed but one night, and am returning to
my head quarters. I found nobody and heard nothing here,
but a new rebuff given us by the Americans — I will not
tell you where, because geography is not my forte, nor circum-
stances my talent; but they have burnt a schooner, and
driven General Gage's devils out of a herd of swine, who
ran violently into the sea, and lo! is not the place called
Hog Island ' to this day ?
Pray, Madam, have you read the Correspondents'- "i I never
heard of the book till two days ago. I think one cannot
doubt the letters being genuine ; but who has been so cruel
as to publish them ? and yet, except a little weakness, and
it is very little to have but a little, there is nothing that
can reflect but on the publishers. Methinks, when it is
scandalous to open a private letter, they who publish private
letters stand in a very foul predicament, while the authors
are living and may be hijrt by them. Do not the publishers
accuse themselves of robbing or treachery ? and by conceal-
ing themselves of a very black design ? The publication in
question comprehends many of these offences, for it appears
by the letters that the authors were much afraid of their
being seen, though more goodness of heart appears than
Lettek 1627. — 1 The shirmiah at 1775, Horace Walpole seems to hint
Hogg's Maud took place in May. at Lord Lyttelton and his danghter-
2 In his letter to Mason of July 10, in-law as the writers of the letters.
1775] To the Son. Henry Seymour Conway 215
anything else. Merciful! if all the foolish things one writes
in confidence were to be recorded ! For my part I never
care how silly I am in my letters, as I trust nonsense carries
its own mortality along with it. At least if one is supposed
to have common sense, one may trust, as Sir Godfrey Kneller
did about his wretched daubings, that people will say, ' Oh,
to be sure these could not be his.' I am not averse to
preaching a little on this subject, my Lady, because — but
somebody knocks. Good morrow. Madam.
1628. To THE Hon. Heney Seymoub Cokway.
strawberry Hill, July 9, 1775.
The whole business of this letter would lie in half a line.
Shall you have room for me on Tuesday the 1 8th ? I am
putting myself into motion that I may go farther. I told
Madame du Deffand how you had scolded me on her account,
and she has charged me to thank you, and tell you how
much she wishes to see you too. I would give anything to
go — But the going ! — However, I really think I shall — But
I grow terribly affected with a maladie de famUle, that of
taking root at home.
I did but put my head into London on Thursday, and
more bad news from America. I wonder when it wUl be
bad enough to make folks think it so, without going on !
The stocks, indeed, begin to grow a little nervous, and they
are apt to affect other pulses. I heard this evening here
that the Spanish fleet is sailed, and that we are not in
the secret whither* — but I don't answer for Twickenham
gazettes, and I have no better. I have a great mind to
tell you a Twickenham story; and yet it will be good for
nothing, as I cannot send you the accent in a letter. Here
it is, and you must try to set it to the right emphasis. One
IizrrrKB 1628. — ' The fleet sailed to attack Algiers.
216 To the Rev. William Mason [l775
of our Maccaronis is dead, a Captain Mawhood, the tea-man's
son. He had quitted the army, because his comrades called
him Captain Hyson, and applied himself to learn the classics
and freethinking ; and was always disputing with the parson
of the parish about Dido and his own soul. He married
Miss Paulin's warehouse, who had six hundred a year ; but,
being very much out of conceit with his own canister, could
not reconcile himself to her riding-hood — so they parted beds
in three nights. Of late he has taken to writing comedies,
which everybody was welcome to hear him read, as he could
get nobody to act them. Mrs. Mawhood has a friend, one
Mrs. V , a mighty plausible good sort of body, who feels
for everybody, and a good deal for herself, is of a certain
age, wears well, has some pretensions that she thinks very
reasonable still, and a gouty husband. Well! she was
talking to Mr. Eaftor about Captain Mawhood a little before
he died. 'Pray, Sir, does the Captain ever communicate
his writings to Mrs. Mawhood?' — 'Oh dear, no, Madam;
he has a sovereign contempt for her understanding.' — 'Poor
woman!' — 'And pray. Sir, — give me leave to ask you: I
think I have heard that they very seldom sleep together ?' —
'Oh, never, Madam! Don't you know all that?' — 'Poor
woman ! ' — I don't know whether you will laugh ; but
Mr. Eaftor, who tells a story better than anybody, made
me laugh for two hours. Good night !
1629. To THE Eev. "William Mason.
strawberry Hill, July 10, 1775.
1 HAVE been so constantly here and know so little, that if
1 told you what I do know, it would be but a transcript of
the newspapers. The general opinion is that the war is to
be pursued: and so far we and the Americans agree that
the news in the meadows (our Mall) last night was, that the
1775] To the Bev. William Mason 217
Congress has taken the same resolution ; and as they have
not quite so far to send troops, will probably be a little
more alert in putting their resolutions in execution. The
Admiral, I was told, too, thinks he shall be desired to
convey the garrison of Boston, not into the heart of the
colonies, but home. I am amazed the Parliament does
not meet and vote that this will be a breach of the Act of
Navigation. The colonies are really so cowardly, that they
go on like the old song, beating those who never beat them
in their lives, and have driven away all the cattle from
General Gage's Smithfield, and burnt a schooner that he
sent to defend them. As the stocks have shown no sensi-
bility till now, I suppose some rich butcher has sold out.
This is all I can tell you of politics.
To your other question, I doubt I shall not see Yorkshire
this summer. I am actually thinking of a tour to Paris ;
and if I do go, it will be before the end of August. Shall
I bring you a slice of their English gardens? or a whole
one second-hand? They may be out of fashion by this
time, and the moment anything is, they sell it.
Has a little book called the Correspondents strolled so far
north? It is a singular publication, and an abominable
one ; at least I suspect the motive to be so. They are letters
between a late grave noble author ^ and his daughter-in-law,
before she married his son : they are perfectly innocent, and
very good and very wise ; but the spirit was not always
entirely uppermost. They seem to be genuine, but if they
are, one must guess and abhor the publisher.
Mrs. Wood publishes an Essay, which her husband"
showed me and I Uked, on Homer's country. My late
brethren, the Antiquaries, have given a third volume, with
some pretty plates of horns, and some trifling trinkets,
Lktteb 1629, — ' Perhaps Loid ' Eobert Wood, sometime Under
Lyttelton. Secretary of State ; d. 1771,
218 To the JRev. William Mason [1775
dissertations on cock-fighting and shoeing horses, and half
a volume on their print of the interview in the Vale of
Cloth of Gold, and the room at Cowdry*, in which I am
censured for liking it only as a curiosity and not as a picture,
though there is no more perspective or drawing than in an
Indian screen. To stamp my doom, in the index is said,
the Cowdry picture defended against Mr. W. — see what it is to
try to teach owls to be singing-birds ! I was the first soul
that ever endeavoured to introduce a little taste into English
antiquities, and had persuaded the world not to laugh at our
Hearnes and Hollingsheds, and the graceless loggerheads fly
I in my face ! but I have left them to themselves, and could
not have left them in worse hands.
This letter is only chaperon to a parcel that I must beg
you to convey to Peckitt at York, and which I send open to
save troubling you with the purport (is not this an Iricism?}:
when you have read it or not, as you please, you will be so
good as to seal it.
July 12th.
Since I began my letter two days ago, I have taken my
resolution ; and shall set out on the 1 4th of next month, to
be back in the beginning of October, by which time I suppose
you will have frightened the Ameiicans out of their senses,
or the Americans the ministers into theirs.
I have not yet seen the reviews for this month ; those of
the last were exceedingly civil to you. One piece of service
you have rendered me. The proprietor of the asterisk* on
Lord Clarendon's History has certainly reconnoitred himself,
' The frescoed room at Cowdray perished in the fire of 1793.
was thus mentioned in the Anecdotes * Bichard Owen Cambridge, whose
of Painting: — 'Though the histories name is represented by two asterisks
represented there, the habits and in Mason's Memoira of Oray. His
customs of the times, make that criticisms on Clarendon's ii/e (before
room a singular curiosity, they are its publication) are mentioned in
its only merit. There is nothing Gray's letter to Maaon of July 23,
good either in the designs, disposi- 1759.
tion, or colouring.' The frescoes
1775] To Viscount Nuneham 219
for he has not called on me since the publication, though
very civil when we meet, yet never opening his mouth on
that subject. I bear this misfortune with great philosophy,
as I always do everything I do not care about.
My Lord of Eochester ' has consulted me for an altar-piece
for the choir at Westminster. I have suggested an octagon
canopy of open arches, like Chichester Cross, to be elevated
on a flight of steps, with the altar in the middle, and semi-
circular arcades to join the stalls, so that the Confessor's
chapel and tombs may be seen through in perspective.
His Lordship, indeed, wanted to remove that whole chapel,
but his Chapter luckily opposed. Here is the ground-plot of
my idea : if you approve it you may draw the elevation as
beautifully as you please.
• *■■*•
• • • • . •
• ^« .^i:^ /xs:^ •
•
1630. To Viscount Nuneham.
strawberry Hill, July 18, 1775.
I SHALL be at Park Place next week, my dear Lord, and
if you assure me that I shall not be troublesome either to
Lady Nuneham or yourself, I will have the honour of passing
a night at Nuneham, and asking your commands to Paris,
whither I am going next month, — with great satisfaction in
one respect, the certainty of finding the Hotel d'Harcourt
open next winter. I should be ashamed of such a trip at
my age, if it was not to see an older person ; yet I shall not
go incog, and call myself Dr. W.^, but what I always am, &c.
6 John Thomas ; d. 1793. on a recent visit to Paris, had called
Letteb 1630.—' Lord Mansfield, himself ' Dr. Murray.'
220 To the Countess of Upper Ossory \i77S
1631. To THE Countess op Uppee Ossoey.
strawberry Hill, July 23, 1775.
Lady, thou lettest not thy servant depart in peace ! but
you must. My pen is truly grown a gret/ goose-quill, and
has lost its pith. It never had much imagination, and what
it had is gone. Indolence has taken total possession, and
comprises my whole story. I have done nothing but bask
in the sun, gather hampers of orange-flowers, and enjoy this
celestial summer. I believe Joshua has bid the sun stand
still, for there has not been a bad day since the first of
December. I had rather impute my supineness to this
Asiatic season than to the fifty-seven winters I have known ;
but I must burst my chains and go to Paris, which I doubt
I shall not find a fontaine de jouvence.
1 have dined at Muswell Hill, and the next day the Beau-
clerks, Miss Lloyd and I, went to Old Windsor to see poor
Mr. Bateman's auction. It was a melancholy sight to me
iu more lights than one. I have passed many pleasing days
there with him and Lady Hervey, and felt additional pain
by reflections on my chUd Strawberry !
All pulled to pieces, and sold by the person he loved and
left it to ! So was poor Lady Hervey treated ! I bought her
picture there, left for sale. Indeed, Lord Bateman made
amends, for he left his own and his house's portraits there
too for sale, with a lot of shalots, four acres of beans, and
a parcel of human bones ! This is a golden age literally,
and one should not wonder if the people sold their chUdren
as the negroes do. I purchased a cargo of ancient chairs *,
and they at least have found a resting-place in their old age.
The Beauclerks and the Virgin returned and passed two days
Letter 1631. — ' 'Eight very placed in the Great Cloister at
ancient Welsh chairs ; ' they were Strawberry Hill.
1775] To tike Countess of Upper Ossory 221
here. On Wednesday I go to Park Place and Nuneham;
but I perceive I shall lose my place of gazetteer to your
Ladyship. Perhaps you will think I am going to have a
better, when I tell you an excellent story and quote my
author, Lord North. Mr. Cambridge, with all his propensity
to credit new-imported marvels, was struck with hearing
Mr. Bruce affirm having sent some camels to Abyssinia,
and suspended his faith till the fact could be examined.
He galloped' to Soame Jenyns, and begged to have the
registers of exportation in the Board of Trade searched.
After some days, Jenyns wrote to tell him that he had
scrutinized all the records relating to Philadelphia, Carolina,
Virginia, &c., &c., and did indeed find a prodigious number
of the species in question had gone to all those provinces,
but that they did not speU their names like the camels he
wotted of.
Well, Madam, if I have moulted my activity, at least
my obedience remains in full feather. You say you have
written and sealed your justification of yourself and your
opinion of the Correspondents, but I am sure I have received
no such letter. I will say no more on mine ; I have no
affectation about them ; you see I answer the moment I
receive yours, and the nonsense in waiting always serves
to fill them. If they are preserved, they will prove that
I took no care of my reputation, and that your Ladyship
had not the best taste in the world in being content with
such letters. One comfort the worst writers may have,
that, if their follies are handed down, the devil will be in
it if any mortal can read a hundred-thousandth part of what
is written ; and it signifies little whether such things are
burnt or slumber on the shelves of a library.
2 Cambridge habitually rode fast,
222 To the Countess of Upper Ossory [i775
• 1632. To THE Countess op Uppeb Ossoey.
strawberry Hill, Aug. 3, 1775.
I CAN tell your Ladyship nothing about the Correspondents
but what I donH know, which is what people generally tell.
I did believe the letters genuine, and that they passed
between the old Lord and his daughter-in-law before she
was so. Now it seems the executors deny their authenticity,
so I do not believe it any longer, because anybody is at least
better authority than everybody ; for one person may speak
truth, which all the world rarely does. I know still less of
Lady Luxborough's ' Letters, but expect to be diverted.
I remember her wearing her little wizen husband's picture
in her great black bush of hair ; then she fell in love with
Parson Dalton ^ for his poetry, and they rhymed together
tUl they chimed ; and then I never saw or heard of her
any more, till she revived in Mr. Shenstone's Letters, and
was a great performer in his ballad Arcadia. I think these
materials promise, considering too that the heroine was
sister both of Lord Bolingbroke and Hollis St. John*.
I expect a mixture of Mrs. Eliza Thomas *, Machiavel, and
Shuter.
1 certainly did not send you, Madam, Lady Craven's
verses, nor intend it, though they are extremely pretty.
She did not give me leave, and without it you know I would
not. Nay, I don't think I should even with her permission,
Lettbe 1632. — 1 Hon. Henrietta John ; d. 1738.
St. John (d. 1756), danghter of first * Mrs. Elizabeth Thomas (1677-
Viscount St. John; m. (1727) Eobert 1781), known as 'Corinna,' a writer
Knight, or. (Aug. 8, 1745) Baron Lax- of poetry, and correspondent of
borough, of Shandon in Ireland ; cr. Dryden. After endeavooriug to
Earl of Catherlough in 1763. make a livelihood in a questionable
2 Eev. John Dalton (1709-1763), manner, she was thrown into the
poet ; he adapted Comua for the Fleet Prison, and died, though not
stage. actually in prison, in great poverty.
3 Fourth son of first Viscount St.
1775] To the Countess of Upper Ossory 223
for she makes an Apollo of me, and, if the eight other
Muses called me so too, I would not accept the title without
any pretensions.
Tuesday se'nnight is fixed for my voyage, I doubt it
will not be in my power to see Ampthill till my return.
I am in great distress, with a near relation dying in my
house. You have heard me mention Mrs. Daye": they
have let her come from Chichester in the last stage of an
asthma and dropsy. I can neither leave her here with only
servants, nor know how to convey her back ; but I will not
disturb your happiness with melancholy stories, Madam.
For political mishaps, they are very endurable. One loves
one's country, but then one takes no more part than comes
to the share of an individual ; besides, when one has lived
a good while, events strike one the less. I have seen my
country's barometer up at Minden and down at Derby ;
I have worn laurels and crackers, and sackcloth and ashes.
At last I am grown like sauntering Jack, and bear revolu-
tions with much philosophy : —
My billet at the fire is found,
"Whoever is depos'd or crown'd ;
but I go no farther ; one has griefs enough of one's own, '.
without fretting because Cousin America has eloped with \
a Presbyterian parson.
I have crammed my cloister with three cart-loads of
lumbering chairs from Mr. Bateman's, and at last am
surfeited with the immovable movables of our forefathers.
Thank you for advising me. Madam, not to trust to
anybody's love. In good truth I am cured of that as well
as of other delusions, and so will Mr. Crawfurd be if he lives
as long. I hope he will meet me at Paris. I seldom ask
him to come hither, because I cannot amuse him, and
^ Mrs. Day or Daye was a natviral daughter of Sir Eobert Walpole ; she
died in Oct. 1776.
224 To the Countess of Upper Ossory [i775
because he would only disappoint me if he promised to
come. There are few I have a better opinion of, or have
more good will to, and he is sure he is welcome whenever
he likes to come ; but I care so little about the present age,
which is all he can care about, that I conclude young people
can only be civil and weary of me, and therefore never press
myself upon them.
When I return from Paris I shall have some novelty,
and you shall see me as modernized as possible. If Marshal
Eichelieu has a casque of pink and sable plumes, I will have
one too. I will learn to sing the freshest couplets, and will
be as accurate as Lady Mary Coke in all the ceremonial
of Madame Clotilde's espousals ", though I fear the good old
form of her going to bed with the ambassador's leg is out of
fashion, though a Christian nudity of excellent edification.
Well, now we are talking of weddings, &c., I shall take
the liberty of transcribing the following lines, which Lord
Huntingdon found on the window of an inn, and gave
to Mr. Conway. Some tender swain had written very
illegibly his fair one's name in this usual aubergical
exclamation : —
Adorable Miss Priscilla Flaw I
Another unfeeling savage wrote under ',
I found Lady Jersey at Nuneham, with a pretty little girl,
who will be the picture of her father as soon as she cuts her
nose, and is bigger already. There was Mr. Whitehead',
the Laureate, too, who, I doubt, will be a little puzzled,
if he has no better a victory than the last against Caesar's
next birthday. There was a little too much of the vertere
' To the Prinoe of Piedmont. letters to Ladjr Ossory, as too coarse
^ Tlie lines were considered by to be printed.
Lord Lyvedeu, the editor of the « WiUiam Whitehead (1715-1785).
1775] To Sir Horace Mann 225
Juneribus triumpJios for a complimentary ode in the last
action.
I hear that the Congress have named General Washington
Generalissimo, with two thousand a year and five pounds
a day for his table ; he desired to be excused receiving the
two thousand. If these folks will imitate both the Eomans
and Cromwellians in self-denial and enthusiasm, we shall be
horridly plagued with them. Colonel Lee ' is the third on
the staff; I forget the second's name. They say all the
regiments in Ireland are going to Boston, and fifty thou-
sand Hanoverians coming to guard Ireland — c'est un furieux
remue-mdnage ; but I don't understand these things, and
wish your Ladyship good night.
1633. To Sib Hoeace Mann,
strawberry Hill, Aug. 3, 1775.
In spite of all my modesty, I cannot help thinking I have
a little something of the prophet about me. At least we
have not conquered America yet. I did not send you
immediate word of our victory at Boston^, because the
success not only seemed very equivocal, but because the
conquerors lost three to one more than the vanquished.
The last do not pique themselves upon modern good breed-/
ing, but level only at the officers, of whom they have slain (
a vast number. We are a little disappointed, indeed, at^
their fighting at all, which was not in our calculation.
We knew we could conquer America in Germany, and
I doubt had better have gone thither now for that purpose,
as it does not appear hitherto to be quite so feasible in
America itself. However, we are determined to know the
^ Colonel (afterwards Major- command in the American army in
General) Charles Lee (1731-1782). June 1775.
He served in the English army, Lbttbb 1633. — ' The battle of
1716-71. He was appointed to a Bunker's Hill, on June 17, 1775,
WALl'OLE. IX
226 To Sir Horace Mann [i776
Avorst, and are sending away all the men and ammunition
we can muster. The Congress, not asleep neither, have
appointed a Generalissimo, Washington, allowed a very-
able officer, who distinguished himself in the last war.
Well ! we had better have gone on robbing the Indies ;
it was a more lucrative trade.
We are in no pain about the Spanish fleet. Our papers
say it has its hands full at Algiers, or Tunis, I forget which.
There are so many people who take care of the geography
of a war, that I never trouble my head about it. At
present I am thinking of nothing but my journey to Paris,
whither I am bound on the 15th. It is a little late I own
for such a trip, and I did not think I should have so much
resolution again ; but my dear old blind woman ' has begged
it, and I cannot refuse, though I feel how terrible the
parting will be, since I cannot expect to see her again.
She is almost seventy-nine ! In fact, her lamp burns as
brightly as ever ; but I am sure mine grows dim, and my
spirits scarce serve
To rock the cradle of reposing age !
Your brother has recovered his activity so far as to go to
Linton, where he has not been these four years.
Your friend, the Duchess of Beaufort '', has already found
a great and proper party for Lady Mary ' ; Lord Granby *
has proposed, and you may be sure was not rebuffed. We
have no other news but the American, which keeps our
summer in full talk. Every day proclaims something,
but so many lies, that I always wait for the echo ; and
advise you to do so too, or you will have many abortive
beliefs.
2 Madame la Marquise du Deffand. * Lady Mary Somerset.
Walpole. 5 G-randson and successor of John
» Widow of Lord Noel Somerset, Manners, Duke of Eutland. Walpole,
Duke of Beaufort. Walpole.
1775] To the Rev. William Mason 111
The heroine Kingston is almost forgotten. Foote had
a mind to have revived her story on the stage ; but Lord
Hertford would not license his piece *. It is still thought
she will be tried and convicted, but her Countess-hood will
save her Duehess-hood from being burnt in its hand.
Adieu !
1634. To THE Eev. William Mason.
strawberry Hill, Aug. 7, 1775.
Let me tell you you have no more taste than Dr. Kenrick ',
if you do not like Madame de S6vign6's Letters. Eead
them again ; they are one of the very few books, that, like
Gray's Life, improve upon one every time one reads them.
You have still less taste, if you like my letters, which have
nothing original, and if they have anything good so much
the worse, for it can only be from having read her letters
and his. He came perfect out of the egg-shell, and wrote
as well at eighteen as ever he did ; nay, letters better, for
his natural humour was in its bloom, and not wrinkled by
low spirits, dissatisfaction, or the character he had assumed.
I do not care a straw whether Dr. Kenrick and Scotland
can persuade England that he was no poet. There is no
common sense left in this country: —
With Arts and •°-ciences it travelled West.
The Americans wiU admire him and you, and they are
the only people by whom one would wish to be admired.
The world is divided into two nations — men of sense that
win be free, and fools that like to be slaves. What a figure
do two great empires make at this moment ! Spain, mistress
of Peru and Mexico, amazes Europe with an invincible
« It was called A Trip to CalaU, LL.D. (d. 1779), who had written
and was acted afterwards, but much slightmgly of Gray's poetry in the
altered. WalpoU. London Review.
LaiTEB 1634. — ' William Kenrick,
Q 2
228 To the Bev. William Mason [i775
armada ; at last it sails to Algiers, and disbarks its whole
contents, even to the provisions of the fleet. It is beaten
shamefully, loses all its stores, and has scarce bread left to
last till it gets back into its own ports !
Mrs. Britannia orders her senate to proclaim America
a continent of cowards, and vote it should be starved unless
it will drink tea with her. She sends her only army to be
besieged in one of their towns, and half her fleet to besiege
the terra firma ; but orders her army to do nothing, in
hopes that the American senate at Philadelphia will be so
frightened at the British army being besieged in Boston,
that it will sue for peace. At last she gives her army leave
to sally out, but being twice defeated, she determines to
carry on the war so vigorously till she has not a man left,
that all England will be satisfied with the total loss of
America ; and if everybody is satisfied, who can be blamed ?
Besides, is not our dignity maintained ? have not we carried
our majesty beyond all example ? When did you ever read
before of a besieged army threatening military execution on
the country of the besiegers ! car tel est notre plaisir ! But,
alack ! we are like the mock doctor ; we have made the
heart and the liver change sides ; cela etoit autrefois ainsi,
mais nous avons change tout cela !
I will certainly visit Monsr. Watelet's garden that he has
curled and powdered d Vangloise. I shall like to be amused
with less serious follies than our own, though I doubt I shall
find they laugh a little more at us than we can at them.
Well ! I will wrap myself up in my Robinhood ! They
cannot say the good old man my father did it. Have you
heard the history of Foote and her Grace of Kingston?
She applied to the Lord Chamberlain, and prevented the
piece being licensed, though Foote had an audience, and
with his usual modesty assured her he had not had her
Grace in view. The dame, as if he had been a member of
1775] To the Rev. William Mason 229
Parliament, offered to buy him off. Aristophanes's Grecian
virtue was not to be corrupted ; but he offered to read the
piece, and blot out whatever passages she would mark, that
she thought applicable to her case. She was too cunning
to bite at this ; and they parted. He swears he will not
only print his comedy, but act her in Lady Brumpton. He
has already printed his letter to Lord Hertford, and not
content with that, being asked why it was not licensed,
replied, ' Why, my Lord Hertford desired me to make his
youngest son a box-keeper, and because I would not, he
stopped my play.' Upon my word, if the stage and the
press are not checked, we shall have the army, on its return
from Boston, besieged in the Haymarket itself. What are
we come to, if Maids of Honour cannot marry two husbands
in quiet ?
Well, General Gage is recalled, and is to be hanged. We
had conquered America by this time, they say, if he had
not betrayed us, and desired the provincials to block him
up ; so en attendant Hancock '^ and Adams '', and Putnam '
and Washington, you may divert yourselves with executing
your own General. Voltaire vriU abuse you, as he did about
poor Byng ; but really a government must condemn some-
body, or the mob — but I am going to Paris, and leave you
to your own devices. Don't finish your essay on gardening
till I bring you the newest improvements from the Opera,
where to be sure the Elysian fields will be laid out naturally.
If anything strikes me particularly, you shall hear from me,
but as my stay will be short, I don't promise, for I have
been so often at Paris, that my staring is extremely emousse,
2 John Hancock {d. 1793), Presi- Ambassador from the United States
dent of the Congress of Massachn- toGreat Britain, 1785-87; President
setts in 1774. of the United States, 1797-1801.
» John Adams (1735-1826), Eepre- * Major-General Israel Putnam
sentative of Massachnsetts in the (1718-1790), commanding under
Congress of 1774 ; Commissioner to Washington. He was prominent in
the court of France, 1778; first the battle of Bunker's HiU.
230 To the Hon. Henry Seymour Conway [l775
and one must travel to Abyssinia, to find anything very
new. Adieu !
Yours entirely,
H. W.
1635. To THE Hon. Heney Seymoue Conway,
strawberry Hill, Aug. 9, 1775.
Well ! I am going tout de bon, and heartUy wish I was
returned. It is a horrid exchange, the cleanness and verdure
and tranquillity of Strawberry, for a beastly ship, worse
inns, the pave of the roads bordered with eternal rows of
maimed trees, and the racket of an hotd garni ! I never
dote on the months of August and September, enlivened
by nothing but Lady Greenwich's speaking-trumpet — but
I do not want to be amused — at least never at the expense
of being put in motion. Madame du Deffand, I am sure,
may be satisfied with the sacrifice I make to her !
You have heard, to be sure, of the war between your
brother and Foote ; but probably not how far the latter has
carried his impudence. Being asked why Lord Hertford
had refused to license his piece, he replied, ' Why, he asked
me to make his youngest son a box-keeper, and because
I would not, he stopped my play.' The Duchess of King-
ston offered to buy it off, but Foote would not take her
money, and swears he will act her in Lady Brumpton ;
which to be sure is very applicable.
I am sorry to hear Lord Villiers is going to drag my
Lady through all the vile inns in Germany. I think he
might go alone.
George Onslow told me yesterday, that the American
Congress had sent terms of accommodation, and that your
brother told him so ; but a strange fatality attends George's
news, which is rarely canonical ; and I doubt this intelli-
1775] To the Countess of Upper Ossory 231
gence is far from being so. I shall know more to-morrow,
when I go to town to prepare for my journey on Tuesday.
Pray let me hear from you, enclosed to M. Panchaud.
I accept with great joy Lady Aylesbury's offer of coming
hither in October, which wUl increase my joy in being at
home again. I intend to set out on my return the 25th
of next month.
Sir Gregory Page* has left Lord Howe eight thousand
pounds at present, and twelve more after his aunt Mrs.
Page's death.
Tuesday, 10th.
I cannot find any grounds for believing that any pro-
posals are come from the Congress. On the contrary,
everything looks as melancholy as possible. Adieu !
1636. To THE Countess op Upper Ossobt.
strawberry Hill, Aug. 10, 1775.
If I am become mysterious. Madam, I must be grown as
old as Methusaleh, or by keeping bad company have con-
tracted habits of circumspection, which I always despised.
Is it mystery not to notify royal pregnancies ? Consider
how bourgeois it would be in me to talk of her Highness
my niece ; there is the somxe of my reserve. Oh, but
a babe of Brunswick to be born at Kome ! what an event !
very well, Madam, it wUl be time enough six months hence
to talk of that. For my escape, and the valour of my
servant, it is a mystery stUl to myself. I beUeve a man did
intend to rob me one morning as I went to Hanworth,
because when I ordered my footman to produce a blunder-
buss that was under the seat of the chaise, the fellow
galloped off; but if David is intituled in any part in this
Letter 1635.—^ Sir Gregory Page, Kent. Mrs. Page was his sister-in-
second Baronet, of Wricklemarsh, in law.
232 To the Countess of Upper Ossory [i775
history that I have suppressed, it is for being such a fool
as to bid the man follow the chaise when he inquired the
way. The whole conduct was my own in this no adven-
ture, which I see has swelled to a magnitude. I had
forgotten it, and it certainly was not worth relating ; so
pray, your Ladyship, let me be restored to my character of
indiscreet in your good opinion, or my neighbour Mr. Ellis
will come and trust me with some state secret out of the
Utrecht Gazette. I have escaped many such sage friends
by not reverencing mystery, to the prejudice of my prefer-
ment, no doubt ; but I do not regret my misfortune, though
my error is so evident. When Mentor and Sir Eichard
Lyttelton were lads of fifteen, they were walking in the
garden at Hampton Court, with that old driveller Lord
Ktzwater. Lyttelton rattled away as usual. As soon as
the peer was gone. Master Mentor said to his companion,
' Dick, how could you talk so imprudently before a privy
councillor ! ' Could such premature wisdom fail to produce
a nurse of future Csesars ? and have not I now proved to
your Ladyship that you accuse me unjustly of being too
cautious ?
Apropos, Telemachus ^ was entertained yesterday at Oat-
lands ; the guests besides were Lord and Lady Holderness,
Lord and Lady Hertford, Fitzroy, George Onslow and his
wife. It is pity the first glimpse of empire was such a
paradise ; he will conclude it is Elysium from thence to the
Orkneys.
Methinks I in my turn might complain of reserve. Only
two bobbins of gold for your lambour, and I had rather be
excused more commissions. I beg you will honour me with
any you please ; I will not excuse myself, unless they would
involve me in a dispute with a Custom House officer at
Dover, and applications afterwards, which I have not spirit
Letter 1636. — ^ The Prince of Wales.
1775] To the Countess of Upper Ossory 233
to encounter. I propose being at home the first week in
October. Mr. Crawfurd and Ms lady and family, the papers
say, are set out for Spa. Lord and Lady Villiers are going
to Vienna, not terrified by the persecutions which were
executed on an unhappy princess ^ who twice took the same
journey.
As your Ladyship was scandalized with the verses,
though I assure you I gave copies to two Countesses, who
desired to have them, I will now transcribe a more serious
tale, which I found the other night in Froissart, and which
shows how true gallantry is degenerated. He is speaking
of Edward Ill's first expedition to France (I wish I could
write the black letter). ' They had with them Yonge
Bachelars, who had eche of them one of their eyen closed
with a peace of sylke. It was sayd, how they had made
a vowe among the ladyes of their countrey, that they wolde
nat se but with one eye tyll they had done some dedes of
armes in Fraunce.' Is not it plain, Madam, that we were
greater heroes when we were in love and hoodwinked, than
now that we have no sentiment, and have our eyes broad
open?
Arlington Street, Aug. 11, 1775 '.
Mr. and Mrs. Crawfurd are not yet gone. Have you
heard that Mrs. St. Jack * has declared that if the Colonel
goes to America, she will accompany him? G. Selwyn
says she will make an excellent breastwork. Adieu, Madam !
I wish you much pleasure, shooting, gold cups, judges, and
all the joys the country can afford.
* Lady Mary Coke. Thomas Bladen ; m. (1771) Colonel
' Hitherto printed as a separate (afterwards General) Hon. Henry St.
letter, John, second son of second Viscount
* Barbara, daughter of Colonel St. John.
234 To the Countess of Ailesbury [l775
1637. To THE Countess of Ailesbuey.
From t'other side of the water, Aug. 17, 1775.
Inteepeeting your Ladyship's orders in the most personal
sense, as respecting the dangers of the sea, I write the
instant I am landed. I did not, in truth, set out till yester-
day morning at eight o'clock ; but finding the roads, horses,
postillions, tides, winds, moons, and Captain Fectors in the
pleasantest humour in the world, I embarked almost as
soon as I arrived at Dover, and reached Calais before the
sun was awake ; — and here I am for the sixth time in my
life, with only the trifling distance of seven-and-thirty years
between my first voyage and the present. Well ! I can only
say in excuse, that I am got into the land of Strulbrugs,
where one is never too old to be young, and where la
bequille du pere Barnabas blossoms like Aaron's rod, or the
Glastonbury thorn.
Now, to be sure, I shall be a little mortified, if your
Ladyship wanted a letter of news, and did not at all trouble
your head about my navigation. However, you will not
tell one so ; and therefore I will persist in believing that
this good news will be received with transport at Park
Place, and that the bells of Henley will be set a-ringing.
The rest of my adventures must be deferred till they have
happened, which is not always the case of travels. I send
you no compliments from Paris, because I have not got
thither, nor delivered the bundle which Mr. Conway sent
me. I did, as your Ladyship commanded, buy three pretty
little medallions in frames of filigraine, for our dear old
friend '- They will not ruin you, having cost not a guinea
and a half ; but it was all I could find that was genteel and
portable ; and as she does not measure by guineas, but
Letter 1637. — ' Madarae du Deffaud. Walpole,
1775] To the Countess of Upper Ossory 235
attentions, she will be as much pleased as if you had sent
her a dozen acres of Park Place. As they are in bas-relief,
too, they are feelable, and that is a material circumstance
to her. I wish the Diomede had even so much as a pair of
Nankin !
Adieu, toute la chere famille ! I think of October with
much satisfaction ; it will double the pleasure of my return.
1638. To THE Countess of Uppee Ossoey.
Koye, Aug. 18, 1775.
The last paragraph of your letter made me smile, Madam.
If Colonel Mars were setting out for America with Jove's
own thunder-bolt in his portmanteau, Venus could not have
encouraged him by a more inspiring epistle. So my glory is
to redound to your Ladyship ! Alas ! I am grieved to the
heart that my journey has been hitherto so tranquil and
obscure, that, I doubt, not the reflection of a ray wUl fall to
your Ladyship's share. I slipped into Calais with as little
eclat as a smuggler. No garrison under arms received me,
nor commandant conducted me in ceremony to the citadel.
In short, the King of France had forgotten to write a post-
script in my favour, when he ordered royal honours for my
niece ' ; and so, by that neglect, no regard was paid to
my avuncular dignity. I was not very sorry, as walking is
not one of my excellences ; in my best days Mr. Winning-
ton said I tripped like a peewit ; and if I do not flatter
myself, my march at present is more like a dabchick's.
I arrived at Dover in such a clear blue evening, and saw
the French coast so distinctly, that, had I had but a pair
of miracle-shoes, I thought I could have gone over on foot
in a quarter of an hour ; but I am not going to relate my
journey, which was written seven-and-thirty years ago, and
Lbitee 1638. — ''■ The Dnohess of Gloucester.
236 To the Countess of Aileshury [l77S
is in print (v. Gray's letters). Well ! I have not lived so
long for nothing ; I have at least learnt wit enough not
to waste six days between Calais and Paris; but, as
Mr. Mason says, I was young and giddy, and thought I had
time enough and to spare, which is not quite the case at
present. I hope my own biographer will give as good
a reason for my being here at all ; but that is his business,
not mine.
1639. To THE Countess of Ailesbuey.
Paris, Aug. 20, 1775.
I HAVE been sea-sick to death ; I have been poisoned by
dirt and vermin ; I have been stifled by heat, choked by
dust, and starved for want of anything I could touch : and
yet. Madam, here I am, perfectly well, not in the least
fatigued ; and, thanks to the rivelled parchments, formerly
faces, which I have seen by hundreds, I find myself almost
as young as when I came hither first in the last century.
In spite of my whims, and delicacy, and laziness, none of
my grievances have been mortal : I have borne them as
well as if I had set up for a philosopher, like the sages of
this town. Indeed, I have found my dear old woman so
well, and looking so much better than she did four years
ago, that I am transported with pleasure, and thank your
Ladyship and Mr. Conway for driving me hither. Madame
du Deffand came to me the instant I arrived, and sat by
me whilst I stripped and dressed myself ; for, as she said,
since she cannot see, there was no harm in my being stark.
She was charmed with your present; but was so kind as
to be so much more charmed with my arrival, that she did
not think of it a moment. I sat with her till half an hour
after two in the morning, and had a letter from her before
I my eyes were open again. In short, her soul is immortal,
' and forces her body to bear it company.
1775] To the Countess of Upper Ossory 237
This is the very eve of Madame Clotilde's wedding ; but
Monsieur Turgot, to the great grief of Lady Mary ', will
suffer no cost, but one banquet, one ball, and a play at
VersaiUes. Count Virri gives a banquet, a bal masqui, and
a firework. I think I shall see little but the last, from
which I will send your Ladyship a rocket in my next letter.
Lady Mary, I believe, has had a private audience of the am-
bassador's leg, but en tout bien et honneur, and only to satisfy
her ceremonious curiosity about any part of royal nudity.
I am just going to her, as she is at Versailles ; and I
have not time to add a word more to the vows of your
Ladyship's
Most faithful,
HoK. Walpole.
1640. To THE Countess of Uppee Ossoey.
Paris, Aug. 23.
I SHOULD have a heart of adamant. Madam, if I was not
become a perfect Frenchman. Nothing could exceed my
reception. I do not talk only of my dear old friend, whose
kindness augments with the century. The Marechales de
Luxembourg and Mirepoix came to Paris to see me ;
the Duchesse de la Vallifere met me in the outward room
and embraced me. I am smeared with red, like my
own crest the Saracen, and, in short, have been so kissed
on both cheeks, that had they been as large as Madame de
Virri's, they would have lost leather ; but enough of vanity.
I have landed on the moment of pomp and diversion.
Madame ClotUde was married on Monday morning, and at
night was the banquet royal, — the finest sight sur la terre, —
I believe, for I did not see it. I husband my pleasures and
my person, and do not expose my wrinkles au grand jour.
Lettee 1639. — 1 Lady Mary Coke.
238 To the Countess of Upper Ossory [1775
Last night I did limp to the tal pare, and as I am the hare
with many real friends, was placed on the hone des am-
hassadeurs, just behind the royal family. It was in the
theatre, the bravest in the universe ; and yet taste pre-
dominates over expense. What I have to say I can tell
your Ladyship in a word, for it was impossible to see
anything but the Queen ! Hebes and Floras, and Helens
and Graces, are street-walkers to her. She is a statue of
beauty, when standing or sitting ; grace itself when she
moves. She was dressed in silver, scattered over with
laufier-roses ; few diamonds, and feathers, much lower than
the Monument. They say she does not dance in time, but
then it is wrong to dance in time. Four years ago
I thought her like an English Duchess ', whose name
I have forgotten for some years. Horrible ! but the Queen
has had the cestus since. The King's likeness to a Duke,
whose name is equally out of my books, remains ; and
as if there was a fatahty that chained the two families
together, Madame is as like Lady Georgiana" as two peas.
As your Ladyship and Lord Ossory cannot be so engrossed
with gazing on the Queen as I was, you will want to hear
more of -the court. I wiU try what I can remember of it.
The new Princess of Piedmont has a glorious face, the
rest about the dimensions of the last Lord Holland, which
does not do so well in a stiff-bodied gown. Madame
Elizabeth ' is pretty and genteel ; Mademoiselle ' a good
figure and dances well. As several of the royal family are
Lkttek1640. — ' Elizabeth Wrottea- s Elisabeth Philippine Marie Thfi-
ley, Duchess of Grafton. See letter rfese (1764-1794), younger sister of
to the Earl of Hardwioke of Jan. 12, Louis XVI. She was imprisoned
1775. Walpole's correspondent, the -with the King and Queen in the
Countess of Ossory, had been Duchess Temple, and perished by the guillo-
of Grafton prerioua to her divorce tine on May 10, 1794.
in 1769. i Perhaps Louise Adelaide, daugh-
2 Lady Georgiana Fitzroy, daugh- ter of the Prince de Cond6 ; Abbess
ter of Lady Ossoiy by her former of Bemiremont, 1786; d. 1824.
husband.
1775] To the Countess of Upper Ossory 239
drapes ' for the Princess of Conti ', there were besides, only
the King's two brothers, the three elder Mesdames^, the
Princess de Lamballe ', and the Prince of Cond6. Monsieur
is very handsome ; the Comte d'Artois a better figure and
better dancer. The characters approach to those of two
other royal dukes.
There were but eight minuets, and, except the Queen and
Princesses, only eight lady dancers. I was not so struck
with the dancing as I expected, except with a pas de deux
by the Marquis de Noailles' and Madame Holstein. For
beauty, I saw none, or the Queen effaced all the rest.
After the minuets were French country dances, much
encumbered by the long trains, longer tresses, and hoops.
As the weather was excessively sultry, I do not think the
clothes, though of gauze and the lightest sUks, had much
taste. In the intervals of dancing, baskets of peaches,
China oranges (a little out of season), biscuits, ices, and
wine and water, were presented to the royal family and
dancers. The ball lasted but just two hours. The monarch
did not dance, but for the first two rounds of the minuets
even the Queen does not turn her back to him ; yet her
behaviour is as easy as divine. To-night is a banquet for
three hundred persons, given by the Count de Virri, and
on Friday he gives a bal masque to the universe in a ColisSe
. erected on purpose. I have excused myself from the first,
5 A form of court monming which the Duo de Penthifevre, whom he pre-
oonsisted in draping the carriages of deceased). She was Superintendent
members of the royal family, and of the Queen's Household, She was
those who possessed les honneura du greatly attached to Marie Antoinette,
Louvre, with black cloth. and shared her captivity in the
6 Louise Elisabeth, daughter of the Temple from Aug.-Sept 1792. In
Prince de Condi; m. (1713) Louis the latter month the Princess was
Armand de Bourbon, Prince de taien to the prison of La Force,
Conti. where she was massacred on Sept. 8,
7 Daughters of Louis XV. 1792.
8 Marie Thirfese Louise de Savoie- » Emmanuel Marie Louis (1743-
Carignan (1748-1792), m. (1767) the 1822), Marquis de NoaUles, Ambassa/-
Prinoe de Lamballe (eldest son of dor in England, 1776.
240 To the jRev. William Mason [l775
as I have no curiosity to see how three hundred persons eat,
but shall go for a moment to the other fete, as nothing but
dominos are used, except the grand habit for the dancers.
On Saturday is to be acted, in the same great theatre at
Versailles, the Connetable de Bourbon, a new piece by
Monsieur Guibert", author of the Tactique, graciously in-
dulged to the Queen, and not to be profaned but there and
at Fontainebleau, car cela derogeroit ; and, besides, his
father is a vieux militaire, who would not condescend to
hear his son's play read, even to the Queen ! The Prince
de Beauvau is to place me, and there end the spectacles, for
Monsieur Turgot is econome.
I am rejoiced, for the heat was so great last night, and
I traversed so many corridors, that I would not have so
much pleasure often for all the world. Thus, Madam,
I have given your Ladyship a full account of my travels
in this my second life ; and you are relieved by my letters
from England. I cannot help telling you the French are
1 a little amazed at our sacrificing the substance of America
to the sovereignty, for they grow as English in their ideas
as we grow French. Well, I will go read our papers, that
I may be able to dispute with them.
1641. To THE Eev. William Mason.
Paris, Sept. 6, 1775.
I HAVE made very little progress yet towards the account
I am to give you of the propagation of the faith in this
kingdom. But stay, this is a little too metaphoric ; and
lest I should be taken for an ex-Jesuit or a spy, I declare,
like the writer of an Opera, that I neither believe in the
^'> Jacques Antoiue Hippolyte Academy in 1786. Hia father was
(1743-1790), Comte de Qnibert, Charles BSnoit (1715-1786), Comte
elected a member of the French de Guibert.
1775] To the Bev. William Mason 241
gods of old Borne nor new, excepting Vertumnus, Flora,
and Pomona, and that I am going to write to you my
Provincial, on the conversion of the French to English
gardening. I have begun my observation as methodically
as if I was to draw up an article for the Encyclopedia.
I have laid the axe to the root of the tree, for I have begun
by visiting M. Watelet's isle, called le Moulin Joli. If he
has laid the axe to the root, and even to the branches, he
has used it nowhere else. Instead of finding, as I ex-
pected, a windmill made of ivory and inlaid with false
stones ; instead of Dryads and Hamadryads gathering
acorns in baskets of gauze, M. Watelet has jumped back
into nature, when she was not above five hundred years
old: in one word, his island differs in nothing from a
French garden into which no mortal has set his foot for
the last century. It is an ate (I don't know whether
I spell well) joined to his ierra firma by two bridges, one
of which he calls Dutch and the other Chinese, and which
are as unlike either as two peas, and which is pierced and
divided into straight narrow walks (en berceau) and sur-
rounded by a rude path quite round. To give this etoile
an air champetre, a plenary indulgence has been granted
to every nettle, thistle, and bramble that grew in the garden,
' and they seem good in his sight.' The receipt is as follows : —
take an ate full of willows, cram it full of small elms and
poplar pines, strip them into cradles, and cut them into
paths, and leave all the rest as rough as you found it, and
you will have a Moulin Joli.
You must know this effort of genius is the more pro-
voking, as the situation is charming. Besides that the isle
is in the middle of the Seine, every peephole (though so
small that you seem to look through the diminishing end
of a spying-glass, besides terminating on one real windmill)
is bounded by a chateau, a clocher, a village, a convent,
WALPOLE. IX
242 To the Bev. William Mason [l775
a villa where Henrietta Maria was educated, or hermitage
to which Bossuet retired, — not to mortify himself, but
Fenelon. It is true, you catch these points of view over
wide fields of chalk, which would produce frankincense
as soon as grass, and which (if they had symptoms of
verdure) were waving ranks of fennel. I always perceive
here, when I am out of Paris ; but I never can think
myself in the country. I shall next week see some more
English Essays.
But they are imitating us in better things : their King
is of an excellent disposition, he has driven away the
Chancellor, the Due d'Aiguillon, and those wretches who
had given perfection to despotism in the last reign. M. de
Maurepas restored the old Parliament, and M. Turgot,
the Comptroller-General, has destroyed corvees, that most
execrable oppression, and is every day planning and at-
tempting acts for public happiness. The Moges of the
Academy roll on maxims of virtue and patriotism, and the
King publicly applauds them. You may judge whether
they do not stare at all we are doing ! They will not
believe me when I tell them that the American war is
fashionable, for one is forced to use that word to convey
to them an idea of the majority. A great lady asked me
the other day if I was not a Bostonian ? and I have not
met with a single Frenchman who does not express indigna-
tion or sneer contempt at all our late Acts of Parliament.
M. de Castries being told that Lord North has the Garter,
was surprised, and said for what ? for having lost America ?
— Upon these subjects, as I have not a vast deal to say
on behalf of my dear country, I choose to shift the con-
versation to her Grace of Kingston, whose history seems
as strange to them as our politics. What a chef-d^osuvre is
Foote's answer ' !
Letter 1641.—' See Gent, Mag. 1775, pp. S90-2,
1776] To the Bev. William Mason 243
Sept. 10.
Chap. II.
On Anglo-Franco gardens,
which by the by they call Anglo-Chinois gardens, as they
say that by the help of Sir William Chambers's lunettes
they have detected us for having stolen our gardens from
the Chinese. I shall tell them another tale when I publish
my last volume. Yesterday I went to see the Countess
de Bouf9.ers' English garden at Auteuil, and it is strictly
English, and begotten by her on an English gardener.
There are fifty-two acres, which ascend from the house
up a hill that is laid out in fields, with a sunk fence and
loose trees and shrubs, and has tolerable turf, except that
it is coarse and of a green seldom worn by a gentleman's
garden in England. All along the summit reigns a noble
terrace, surrounded by the Bois de Boulogne, into which
a grille opens upon a lofty avenue bounded by a sugar-loaf
hill. The terrace looks over the lawn upon a glorious
prospect, which begins from the left with one of the King's
houses, is joined by a wood out of which juts Passy, the
Due de Penthifevre's ", that forms the side-scene and flings
a rich view of hills and towns to a great distance. The
middle of the landscape advances again ; on the foreground
are villages and villas, over which is extended all Paris,
with the horizon broken by the towers and domes of Notre
Dame, St. Sulpice, the InvaUdes, the Val de Grace, &c. ;
the whole height of the semicircle goes off in hills decked
with villages and country-houses that are closed by Meudon,
and forests on higher hills. In this sumptuous prospect
nothing is wanting but verdure and water, of which you
do not see a drop. In short, they can never have as
beautiful landscapes as ours, till they have as bad a climate. ;
2 Lonis Jean Marie de BoTirbon (1725-1793), Duo de PenthiSvre.
R 2
244 To Sir Horace Mann [i775
I think I shall stay here a month longer. If you send
me a line, direct it to Arlington ; it will be conveyed or
kept for me. Yours ever,
H. W.
1642. To SiE HoEAOE Mann.
Paris, Sept. 7, 1775.
YouK letter of Aug. 12th followed me hither from
England. I can answer it from hence with less reserve
than I should at home. I understand very well, my dear
Sir, the propriety of the style in which you write in your
ministerial capacity, and never wish to have you expose
yourself to any inconvenience by unnecessary frankness,
I am too much convinced of your heart and head not
swerving from the glorious principles in which we were
both educated, to suspect you of having adopted the
principles instilled into so many Englishmen by Scotch
Jacobites, the authors of the present, as they have been of
every, civil war, — since the days of Queen Elizabeth. You
will on your side not be surprised that I am what I always
was, a zealot for liberty in every part of the globe, and
consequently that I most heartUy wish success to the
Americans. They have hitherto not made one blunder ;
^ and the administration have made a thousand, besides the
V^ two capital ones, of first provoking, and then of uniting the
\ colonies. The latter seem to have as good heads as hearts,
\ as we want both. The campaign seems languishing. The
\ ministers will make all their efforts against the spring.
So no doubt will the Americans too. Probably the war
will be long. On the side of England, it must be attended
with ruin. If England prevails, English and American
liberty is at an end ! If the colonies prevail, our commerce
is gone— and if, at last, we negotiate, they will neither
forgive nor give us our former advantages.
1775] To Sir Horace Mann 245
The country where I now am is, luckily, neither in
a condition or disposition to meddle. If it did, it would
complete our destruction, even by only assisting the colonies,
which I can scarce think they are blind enough not to do.
They openly talk of our tyranny and folly with horror and
contempt, and perhaps with amazement, and so does almost
every foreign minister here, as well as every Frenchman.
Instead of being mortified, as I generally am when my
country is depreciated, I am comforted by finding that,
though but one of very few in England, the sentiments
of the rest of the world concur with and confirm mine.
The people with us are fascinated ; and what must we be,
when Frenchmen are shocked at our despotic acts ! Indeed,
both this nation and their King seem to embrace the most
generous principles — the only fashion, I doubt, in which
we shaU not imitate them ! Too late, our eyes will
open !
The Duke and Duchess^ are at Venice. Nothing ever
exceeded the distinctions paid to them in this country.
The King even invited them to Paris ; but the Duke's haste
to be more southerly before the bad weather begins, would
not permit him to accept of that honour. They do not
expect the same kindness everywhere — and for the English,
they have even let the French see what slaves they are, by
not paying their duty to the Duke and Duchess. I have
written to her, without naming you, to dissuade their fixing
at Eome — I fear, in vain. I proposed Sienna to them, as
I flatter myself the Emperor's goodness for the Duke would
dispose the Great Duke to make it agreeable to them ; and
their residence there would not commit you. Indeed, I do
not believe you suspect me of sacrificing you to the interests
of my family. On the other hand, I wish you, for your own
sake, to take any opportunities of paying your court to them
Lettbb 1642. — 1 Of Gloucester. Walpole.
246 To Sir Horace Mann [i775
indirectly. They are both warm and hurt at the indignities
they have received. In our present distracted situation, it
is more than possible that the Duke may be a very important
personage. I know well that you have had full reason to
be dissatisfied with him ; I remember it as much as you
can : but you are too prudent, as well as too good-natured,
not to forgive a young Prince. I own I am in pain about
the Duchess. She has all the good qualities of her father ",
but all his impetuosity ; and is much too apt to resent
affronts, though her virtue and good nature make her as
easily reconciled ; but her first movements are not discreet.
I wish you to please her as much as possible, within your
instructions. She has admirable sense, when her passions
do not predominate. In one word, her marriage has given
me many a pang ; and though I never gave into it, I
endeavour by every gentle method to prevent her making
her situation still worse ; and, above all things, I try never
to inflame. It is all I can do where I have no ascendant,
which, vrith a good deal of spirit of my own, I cannot
expect : however, as I perfectly understand both my parties
and myself, I manage pretty well. I know when to stoop,
and when to stop ; and when I will stoop or wUl not. I
should not be so pliant if they were where they ought
to be.
That heroine of Doctors' Commons, about whom you
inquire, the Duchess of Kingston, has at last made her
folly, which I have long known, as public as her shame,
by entering the lists with a Merry-Andrew, but who is no
fool. Foote was bringing her on the stage : Lord Hertford '
prohibited his piece. Drunk with her triumph, she would
give the mortal blow with her own hand, —
Pallas te hoc vulnere PaUas immolat;
2 Sir Edward Walpole. Walpole.
' Lord Chamberlain. Walpole,
1775] To Sir Horace Mann 247
but, as the instrument she chose was a ^'oose-quill, the stroke
recoiled on herself. She wrote a letter in the Evening Post,
which not the lowest of her class, who tramp in pattens,
would have set her mark to. Billingsgate from a ducal
coronet was inviting : however, Foote, with all the delicacy
she ought to have used, replied only with wit, irony, and
confounded satire. The Pope will not be able to wash out
the spots with all the holy water in the Tiber. I imagine
she will escape a trial ; but Foote has given her the coup de
grace.
Lord Chatham, when I left England, was in a very low,
languishing way ; his constitution, I believe, too much
exhausted to throw out the gout ; and then it falls on his
spirits. The last letters speak of his case as not desperate.
He might, if allowed — and it was practicable — do much
good stiU. Who else can, I know not. The opposition is
weak every way. They have better hearts than the ministers,
fewer good heads ; not that I am in admiration of the latter.
Times may produce men. We must trust to the book of
events, if we wUl flatter ourselves. Make no answer to
this ; only say you received my letter from Paris, and direct
to England. I may stay here a month longer ; but it is
uncertain.
llth.
P.S. I had made up my letter; but those I received
from England last night bring such important intelligence,
I must add a paragraph. That miracle of gratitude, the
Czarina, has consented to lend England twenty thousand
Eussians, to be transported to America. The Parliament
is to meet on the 20th of next month, and vote twenty-six
thousand seamen ! What a paragraph of blood is there !
With what torrents must liberty be preserved in America !
In England, what can save it ? Oh, mad, mad England !
What frenzy, to throw away its treasures, lay waste its
248 To the Son. Henry Seymour Conway [l775
empire of wealth, and sacrifice its freedom, that its prince
may be the arbitrary lord of boundless deserts in America,
and of an impoverished, depopulated, and thence insignificant,
island in Europe ! and what prospect of comfoi-t has a true
Englishman ? Why, that Philip II miscarried against the
boors of Holland, and that Louis XIV could not replace
James II on the throne !
1643. To THE Hon. Heney Seymoub Conway.
Paris, Sept. 8, 1775.
The delays of the post, and its departure before its arrival,
saved me some days of anxiety for Lady Aylesbury, and
prevented my telling you how concerned I am for her
accident ; though I trust, by this time, she has not even
pain left. I feel the horror you must have felt during her
suffering in the dark, and on the sight of her arm ' ; and
though nobody admires her needlework more than I, still
I am rejoiced that it will be the greatest sufferer. However,
I am very impatient for a further account. Madame du
Defifand, who, you know, never loves her friends by halves,
and whose impatience never allows itself time to inform
itself, was out of her wits, because I could not explain
exactly how the accident happened, and where. She wanted
to write directly, though the post was just gone ; and, as
soon as I could make her easy about the accident, she fell
into a new distress about her fans for Madame de Marchais,
and concludes they have been overturned, and broken too.
In short, I never saw anything like her. She has made
engagements for me till Monday se'nnight, in which are
included I don't know how many journeys into the country ;
and as nobody ever leaves her without engaging them for
Lettxr 1643. — ' lady Ailesbury at Park Place, and dislocated her
had been overturned in her carriage wrist. Walpole.
1775] To the Hon. Henry Seymour Conway 249
another time, all these parties will be so many polypuses,
that will shoot out into new ones every way. Madame
de Jonsac'', a great friend of mine, arrived the day before
yesterday, and Madame du Deffand has pinned her down to
meeting me at her house four times before next Tuesday,
all parentheses, that are not to interfere with our other
suppers ; and from those suppers I never get to bed before
two or three o'clock. In short, I need have the activity of
a squirrel, and the strength of a Hercules, to go through
my labours — not to count how many ddmeUs I have had to
raccommode, and how many memoires to present against
Tonton', who grows the greater favourite the more people
he devours. As I am the only person who dare correct
him, I have already insisted on his being confined in the
Bastile every day after five o'clock. T'other night he flew
at Lady Barrymore's face, and I thought would have torn
her eye out; but it ended in biting her finger. She was
terrified ; she fell into tears. Madame du Deffand, who has
too much parts not to see everything in its true light,
perceiving that she had not beaten Tonton half enough,
immediately told us a story of a lady, whose dog having
bitten a piece out of a gentleman's leg, the tender dame,
in a great fright, cried out, ' "Won't it make my dog sick ? '
Lady Barrymore has taken a house. She will be glutted
with conquests: I never saw anybody so much admired.
I doubt her poor little head will be quite overset.
Madame de Marchais is charming : eloquence and attention
itself. I cannot stir for peaches, nectarines, grapes, and Bury
pears. You would think Pomona was in love with me. I
am not so transported with N cock and hen. They are
a tabor and pipe that I do not understand. He mouths and
she squeaks, and neither articulates. M. d'Entragues I have
2 The Comtesse de Jonsac, a niece ^ A favourite dog of Madame du
of the President Htoault. Deffand's. Walpole.
250 To the Countess of Upper Ossory [1775
not seen. Upon the whole I am much more pleased with
Paris than ever I was ; and perhaps shall stay a little longer
than I intended. The Harry Grenvilles' are arrived. I
dined with them at Madame de Vuy's, who has completed
the conquest of France by her behaviour on Madame ClotUde's
wedding, and by the fstes she gave. Of other English I wot
not, but grieve the Eichmonds do not come.
I am charmed with Dr. Bally ; nay, and with the King of
Prussia — as much as I can be with a northern monarch.
For your Kragen, I think we ought to procure a female one,
and marry it to Ireland, that we may breed some new islands
against we have lost America. I know nothing of said
America. There is not a Frenchman that does not think us
distracted.
I used to scold you about your bad writing, and perceive
I have written in such a hurry, and blotted my letter so
much, that you will not be able to read it : but consider
how few moments I have to myself. I am forced to stuff
my ears with cotton to get any sleep. — However, my journey
has done me good. I have thrown off at least fifteen years.
Here is a letter for my dear Mrs. Darner from Madame de
Cambis, who thinks she dotes on you all. Adieu !
P. S. I shall bring you two ^loges of Marshal Catinat ;
not because I admire them, but because I admire him,
because I thiak him very like you.
1644. To THE Countess oe Uppeb Ossoey.
AvEZ-vous lu les deux £loges ? Ah ! mon Dieu, le petit
C0SS6 est mort ; c'est une desolation ! Monsieur de Clermont
qui vient de perdre sa femme ! — eh bien, Madame ! et Mon-
• Henry Grenville, brother to the Margaret Banks, a celebrated beauty,
first Earl Temple. He married Miss Walpole,
1775] To the Countess of Upper Ossory 251
sieur Chamboneau qui doit reprendre la sienne — mais e'est
affreux. Apropos, on dit qu'on vient de nommer deux
dames h Madame Elizabeth ! si je le sfais ! bon ; ne voilk-t-il
pas que je viens de me faire §crire chez Madame de Eonche-
rolles ! soupez-vous par hasard chez Madame de la Eeinifere * ?
This is the quintessence, Madam, of the present state of
Paris, Sept. 9th, 1775, a quarter before twelve in the fore-
noon ; and if you receive my letter vrithin a week, you may
boast of having the freshest and most fashionable intelligence
of what was said last night at half an hour after eight in
one of the first houses in this capital : not that your Lady-
ship has much claim on my punctuahty : I have been here
three weeks this blessed day, and you have taken no more
notice of me than if I was in Siberia, and were gone out of
fashion instead of in. Eemember I am out of your jurisdic-
tion. Madam; and that mon eosur is assailed like Oithere
assiegee, the subject of the present Opera. Lord ! how I
could brag if I would ! Madame de B." told me last night
that I had made the conquete of her daughter-in-law, la
Comtesse Emilie ; I am going to drink tea with her under
a iosquet de plumes this evening, in the mother's English
garden at Auteuil, and I am to sup at St. Ouen with
Madame Necker', who is reckoned to have condescended
more towards me than to any bel esprit or pMlosophe since
the days of David Hume. It is true I have hurt myself by
speaking a little irreverently of Monsieur Thomas, and by
laughing when she told me that Bossuet and the writers
under Louis Quatorze had only opened the channels of
eloquence which the authors of the present age have made
into a perfect bason — but I am always kicking down the
pail of my fortune by some indiscretion or other ! Well !
Lettek 1644. — 1 Nie Jaxente, wife ' N6e Suzanne Curohod ; wife of
of M. de la Eeynifere, a rich financier. the financier Jacques Necker ; d.
Her suppers were celebrated, 1794.
2 Madame de Boufflers.
252 To the Countess of Upper Ossory [i775
they are a charming people, and I cannot think of leaving
them yet. In England I fancied 1 was within a furlong of
threescore ; but it is so English to grow old ! The French
are Strulbrugs improved. After ninety they have no more
caducity or distempers, but set out on a new career.
Madame du Deffand and I set out last Sunday at seven in
the evening, to go fifteen miles to a ball, and came back
after supper ; and another night, because it was but one in
the morning when she brought me home, she ordered the
coachman to make the tour of the Quais, and drive gently
because it was so early.
Do you think. Madam, I will come home and have the
gout, when I feel myself as young as Nestor when he had
just tapped his second centuiy ? These good folks push the
delusion of life to the last moment. A gentleman here was
dying ; his wife sent for the notary to make his will ; and
when it was done, lest the poor man should have a codicil
more of affection to make, they supped by his bedside. The
notary, tout plein d' attentions, filled a bumper and said,
' Madame, k la sant6 de notre aimable agonisant.'
Pray tell Lord Ossory, Madam, that he would not know
Paris, it is so improved in buildings and in good architecture.
The Hotel de la Monnaie on the Quai is very handsome.
The ;6cole Militaire would be beautiful if the colxmins were
not as short as they are long. I have not yet had time to
see the :6cole de Chirurgie, which they say is beautiful, nor
the PortaU de Ste. Genevifeve, nor the Hotel du Chatelet, nor
the Petite Maison of the Princess of Monaco, but shall next
week. There are twenty new streets that are lovely, with
arcades and gardens. Mad. de Mirepoix's house, where I
supped last night, is charming. It is on the old Boulevard,
the trees of which shade the windows, with the perspective
of a street in front. The salle a manger is all of stucco,
highly polished, representing white marble, with panels of
1775] To the Countess of Upper Ossory 253
verd antique. The grand cabinet is round, all white and
gold and glasses, with curtains in festoons of silk flamM,
and illuminated by four branches of lilies of or moulu, each
as loose and graceful as that which Guido's angel holds in
the Salutation at the Carmelites, which, alas 1 they have just
repainted, as they are serving the whole cloister at the
Chartreuse. While we were at supper, with all the windows
open, and les Gardes du Eoi playing to us, your Ladyship,
I suppose, was hovering over a fire. It has been sultry
ever since I came hither ; the last five days like the torrid
zone, and lightning as cheap as gunpowder.
We are expecting Mr. Crawfurd ; pray don't send for him
to Parliament. In England I conclude you are still talking
of Mrs. Eudd and Miss Butterfield *, and of the Duchess of
Budd and Butterfield '. Well, you may tell me what news
you have ; I will pretend to care about it, as one does about
les nouvelles de province. I am very insolent. Madam, but
at bottom there is a little resentment at not having heard
from you.
1645. To THE Countess of TJppee Ossobt.
Paris, Sept. 12, 1775.
So they say it was I, Madam, who made your Ladyship
entertain a passion for Lord Ossory ! Upon my word, I
never suspected before that I was the god of love ! nor can
I now discover any resemblance between us, unless Le Sage
was right when he made the devil upon two sticks acknowledge
himself for Cupid.
However, as the deed was a good one, and made two
persons happier than Venus's son generally does, I am well
content to take it upon myself : yet not proposing to be so
* Jane Butterfield, tried on a charge of murder in the preceding August,
and acquitted, ° The Dachesa of Kingston.
254 To the Countess of Upper Ossory [i775
convenient again, I will resign Asmodeo's hop to anybody
that likes the profession.
What was in the letter that diverted Lord Ossory, I re-
member no more than the man in the moon, whose memory
lasts but a month. I know, though you are so overbenign
to them. Madam, that I grow easier about my letters ; since
they have become so numerous, they must have the fate of
a collection that was found last winter at Monsieur de
Pondeveylle's : there were sixteen thousand from one lady,
in a correspondence of only eleven years. For fear of
setting the house on fire if thrown into the chimney, the
executors crammed them into the oven. There have been
known here persons who wrote to one another four times
a day ; and I was told of one couple, who being always
together, and the lover being fond of writing, he placed
a screen between them, and then wrote to Madame on
) t'other side, and flung them over.
You perceive I had not received your Ladyship's when
I sent one away yesterday, nor knew you had been dancing
a dream with the Duke of Monmouth, who, when he lost
his head, never dreamt you would replace it with his
cousin's, whose head I am sure I never recommended or
commended to anybody.
Sept. 16 K
I was interrupted. Madam, t'other day, and have not had
a moment since to finish my answer, for, as I never come
home till morning, I do not rise till evening. Mr. Crawfurd
is arrived, though he did promise to come — to make amends,
he has not kept one engagement since. On his way, he
went to visit the Chatelets, but in a province where they do
not live ; he has changed his lodgings already, and does not
like that which he has got. When he came to Brussels,
Sir Something Gordon, our minister, had just shot out both
Letteb 1645. — 1 Hitherto printed as a separate letter.
1775] To the Countess of Upper Ossory 255
eyes of the Due d'Aremberg's son, but letters since say he
will recover one of them.
Pray assure the Duchess of Marlborough, Madam, that
I am much flattered by her Grace's invitation, and shall
certainly obey it. I shall not have an opportunity quite so
soon as I intended, having promised to stay here till the
10th of next month — a promise I already repent, as the
weather, with English inconstancy, has changed at once
from sultry to extreme cold and deluges of rain.
The charming Queen is gone out of fashion, so I am no
longer in love with her. However, as I have not seen
another face that is handsomer than a mermaid's at the
stern of a ship, my heart is still vacant — in France ; and
you may have it again. Madam, if you are not still dreaming
of the Duke of Monmouth, or any of King Charles's breed.
If you saw how like this King is to one of them, and what
horrid grimaces he makes, I am sure all my poiver of descrip-
tion would not reconcile you to him. Monsieur is very
handsome— but somehow or other, I doubt, nobody wUl fall
in love with him. The Comte d'Artois is not so comely, is
better made, and having revived the house of Bourbon,
is taking true pains to reconcile the ladies to the family.
The Duke of Orleans, as they have no longer occasion for
his being king, is in a bad way. Madame de Boufilers told
us at supper t'other night qu'a sa garderdbe il s'efoit passe de
la graisse. I never heard of such a complaint before, and
was veiy glad it was the only one that poor Crawfurd, who
was present, cannot fancy he has.
Lady Anne's comparison of her father to Maitre Corbeau
put me in mind of a very good story, though so old I fear
you know it, of a little girl who had confounded her prayers
and La Fontaine, and being ordered to repeat the Lord's
Prayer in French, began, ' Notre pfere sur un arbre perche.'
If this is antiquated, I have nothing else newer — except that
256 To George Augustus Selwyn [l775
I am violently tempted to stay for Mariette's sale, which
they say is to be in November. I have not heard a syllable
of news from England since I came hither, my few corre-
spondents being in the country, like your Ladyship.
Thank my stars, you cannot commend this letter. Madam :
I hope it is dull enough to pass with impunity. I should
have a fine time of it if I tortured myself to keep up a
character ! but nobody shall ever catch me at that.
21st.
Lord Duncannon " is not gone ! my letter has lain by till
it is mouldy, but as I have an opportunity of sending it to-
morrow, and no time to write another, it must go, super-
annuated as it is !
1646. To G-EOEGE Augustus Selwyn.
Paris, Sept. 16, 1775.
Mk. Beodeick' brought me your letter yesterday, and I
told him, as you may be sure, how glad I shall be to be of
any use to him. I shall be of little, I believe, as his object
is to see things, not persons.
Madame du Deffand would have been more pleased with
your message, which I delivered immediately, if she had
had greater faith in it : yet, when Crawfurd and I come so
often, how can she doubt her power of attraction? If
possible, she is more worth visiting than ever: and so far
am I from being ashamed of coming hither at my age, that
I look on myself as wiser than one of the Magi, when I
travel to adore this star in the East. The star and I went
to the Opera last night, and when we came from Madame
2 Erederiok Ponaonty (1758-1844), Eosooe.
Lord Duncannon, eldest son of i Probably a son of the third
second Earl of Besborough, whom Viscount Midleton, who married
he succeeded in 1793. George Selwyn's niece, Albinia
Letter 1646. — Collated with copy Townshend.
of original in possession of Mr. E. S.
1775] To George Augustus Selwyn 257
de la Vallifere's, at one in the morning, it wanted to drive
about the town, because it was too early to set. To be sure,
you and I have dedicated our decline to very different
occupations. You nurse a little girl ' of four years old, and
I rake with an old woman of fourscore ! N'importe ; we
know many sages that take great pains to pass their time
with less satisfaction.
"We have both one capital mortification ; have not you ?
That a great-grand-daughter of Madame de S6vign6 pretends,
for it is not certain, that she has been debauched by ancient
Eichelieu, and half the world thinks that she is more guilty
of forgery. The memoirs of the two parties are half as
voluminous as Monsieur de Guines', and more are to appear.
You shall have some royal prints. New fashions in dress,
furniture, baubles, I have seen none. Feathers are waning,
and almost confined to filles and foreigners. I found out an
Englishwoman at the Opera last night by her being covered
with plumes and no rouge, which made her look like a whore
in a salivation ; so well our countrywomen contrive to dis-
play their virtue !
I do not tell you about Mens. Turgot's regulations and
reformations, because you care no more about their patrie
than your own ; but you shall hear a bon mot of Madame du
Deffand. Mons. Turgot has begun several reforms and
retracted them : she said, ' Dans le bon vieux tems on recu-
loit pour mieux sauter, au lieu que Mons. Turgot saute pour
mieux reculer.'
Of the house of Harrington I know as much as you do.
Lady Barrymore is here, and my Lord and Lady Harriet
are coming: the first is excessively admired. Lady Mary
Coke, Harry Grenville and his wife, Crawfurd, Lord Cole-
raine ^, and Lord Duncannon are here : the latter will carry
s Maria Fagniani, subsequently ' John Hanger (1713-1794), second
mentioned as ' Mirny.' Baron Coleraine.
WALPOLB. IX R
258 To the Countess of TJ]pper Ossory [17 75
this letter. There are many other English ; but I did not
come hither to get acquaintance of that sort. Madame du
Deffand has recruited her vacancies, and given me enough
new French. With one of them you would be delighted,
a Madame de Marchais. She is not perfectly young, has
a face like a Jew pedlar, her person is about four feet, her
head about six, and her coiffure about ten. Her forehead,
chin, and neck are whiter than a miller's ; and she wears
more festoons of natural flowers than all the figurantes at
the Opera. Her eloquence is still more abundant, her
attentions exuberant. She talks volumes, writes folios — I
mean in Mllets ; presides over the Academie, inspires passions,
and has not time enough to heal a quarter of the wounds
she gives. She has a house in a nut-shell, that is fuller of
inventions than a fairy tale ; her bed stands in the middle
of the room, because there is no other space that would hold
it ; and is surrounded by such a perspective of looking-
glasses, that you may see all that passes in it from the first
antechamber. But you will see her if you come in spring,
which you will not do unless you bring Mimy and Eaton,
and one or two of Lord Carlisle's children * ; and that you
will be afraid of doing, for Madame du Deffand has got a
favourite dog that will bite all their noses off, and was very
near tearing out one of Lady Barrymore's eyes t'other night.
Adieu ! I shall see you by the middle of October.
21st. Duncannon is not gone, but I can send my letter
to-morrow, and shall.
1647. To THE Countess oe Uppeb Ossoet.
Paris, Oct. 8, 1775.
You may be cutting down palm-branches. Madam, to
strew the way, for I am coming. The tempter took me up
* Selwyu was much attached to the Earl of Carlisle and his family.
1775] To the Countess of Upper Ossory 259
into a mountain, and showed me all Marietta's collection of
prints and drawings, which are to be sold in November, and
offered me my choice of them if I would stay. I resisted,
and prefer myself infinitely to Scipio : he might have had
fi-fty other women ; but where is there another room full of
Eaphaels, Correggios, Parmegianos, and Michael Angelos?
Besides, virtue was the ion ton in all the t-ueUes in Eome,
and it was not sgavoir vivre to feel like a man : my continence
is unique ; who else curbs any passion or withstands any
temptation? Did not three monarchs jump at Poland the
moment the devU. gave them a glimpse of it ? Did I learn
self-denial ches nous? but I will be just, and own that
perhaps I have been infected here. G'est le regne de la vertu ;
and I am flying, lest I should be thought Frenchified, if I
return with any principles. Messieurs de Turgot and
Malesherbes^ are every day framing plans for mitigating
monarchy and relieving the people ; and the King not only
listens to but encourages them. Their philosvphes tell folks
that the age is enlightened ; but don't repeat this. Madam ;
I should be laughed at in England, where we are wiser, and
have adopted all the notions which the French are so silly
as to relinquish.
However, things do not seem fixed here ; there are two
parties, if either of which prevailed. Dame Vertu would
return to her rags. The charming Queen is eager to rein-
state Mons. de Choiseul, and then Madame Gloire would
blaze out in full eclat. If Monsieur and Madame (the latter
a very artful Italian ^) get the ascendant, then the Princess
de Marsan (Monsieur's governess) would bring back the
Jesuits, persecution, the Church, and the devil knows what —
Letter 1647. — '^ Chretien Gtiil- 1792, when he undertook the defence
laume de Lamoignon de Malesherbes of Louis XVI at his trial before the
(1721-1794); Ministre de la Maison Convention. He was guiUotined in
dn Eoi, 1775-76. He was again April 1794.
mioister in 1787, but resigned in * She was of the house of Savoy.
1788, and lived in retirement until
S 2
260 To the Countess of Upper Ossory [i775
everything but a Madame du Barri, who must wait for the
reign of the Comte d'Artois, till when there will be no
naughty doings in this country.
I am going to-night to the Italian comedy with Madame
de Mirepoix, to see a new piece, called La Seduction de Paris.
I have no idea what it is to be, but shall have time to tell
you before I finish my letter. My dear old woman has been
dangerously ill, which has confined me above ten days.
I carried her yesterday to the new Boulevard to take the
air for the first time, and with much difiiculty have persuaded
her not to sup in the country to-night.
Poor Mr. Crawfurd is laid up with the gout, but wUl not
be so long, for in spite of all my wisdom he has sent for
a fashionable empiric, who has clapped a plaster to his foot
and removed the pain in one night. He consulted an old
Due de Brancas, who was a cripple, and assured him he
could already dance a minuet. As I do not want to dance
one, I shall not have recourse to the quack, though he
should not kill Crawfurd. In truth he is, and always will
be, so unhappy a being, that if I did not love him as much
as I do, I should scarce think it kind to dissuade him from
anything ; but he has so much real worth, and so much
good sense, that I preach to him by the hour, though I
expect no fruit from my sermons. Madame du Deffand
says one can be but what one is born: a great affront to
me, who pretend to have improved myself exceedingly. She
obeys her thesis so well, that she still says and does every-
thing that comes into her head ; and though I have lectured
her black and blue about whispering to me in company, it
is but two nights ago that she whispered the Bishop of
Mirepoix, thinking it was I that sat next to her, about a lady
in company, who was sitting over against her, and saw the
mistake. You will not believe it perhaps. Madam, but here
I am thought a miracle of prudence and discretion. Yes,
1775] To the Countess of Upper Ossory 261
you will ; for I recollect your Ladyship sometimes upbraids
me with those qualities. If I have them, I am sure I am
not what I was born ; but evil communication corrects bad
manners.
Now I am quoting holy writ, I will tell you a story from
Madame du Deffand. A worthy old gentleman, who was
ill, made his footman read the Bible to him. Unluckily the
man could not read, at least not well. The first sentence
he uttered was, ' Dieu apparut a Abimelech en singe.' —
' Comment done, butor ! que lis-tu \h, ? ' — ' Mais, Monsieur, je
dis que Dieu apparut k Abimelech en singe.' — 'Dieu apparut
en singe ! ' — ' Eh bien ! Oui, Monsieur, est-ce que Dieu ne
pent pas prendre telle forme qu'il lui plait ? ' Pray, Madam,
make Lady Anne observe, how true piety drew edification
from the mouth of the poor footman.
I have another very moral tale for Lady Anne, but it
is too long for a letter. I hope to find her in danger of
a brother. You know I am so angry at her sister, that
I don't even know her name, and regard her as a footman
did here, who being sent to inquire after a lady that was
brought to bed, and being asked at his return what the
child was, said, ' Je ne Sfais pas ; je Sfais que ce n'est pas
un garfon.'
P. S. Huge news ! — yet not quite ripe. Monsieur de
Choiseul is come suddenly to Paris. They say he goes
back on Saturday, but his friends look in great spirits;
and as the Queen has lately committed some acts of au-
thority, and as Madame de Marsan has retired without
a pension, the family-compact— But perhaps your Ladyship
had rather hear about La Reduction de Paris. It is a comic
opera, and yet as dismal as George Barnwell. Henry IV
does nothing but utter maxims and sentences : in the first
scene arrives a dame with a helmet on, a spear and shield,
262 To the Hon. Renry Seymour Conway [l775
and one leg bare. I concluded it was Joan of Arc, but
it proved to be a Dame de Chatillon, who sings a catch
to persuade his Majesty to put every living soul to the
sword, as le trave La Noue does another about la loi fonda-
mentale. In short, the nation has jumbled itself into such
a hodge-podge of philosophy, which they set to music, and
of eloquence, which they dress with all sauces, that their
productions are monsters of pedantry. I have not met
with a page that is worth bringing you. The Academy
of Marseilles have given for their next subject the ^hge
of Madame de Sevign6. How the good soul would stare
if she knew it ! Adieu, Madam, and adieu, Paris !
1648. To THE Hon. Henbt Setmoue Conway.
Paris, Oct. 6, 1775.
It will look like a month since I wrote to you ; but
I have been coming, and am. Madame du Deffand has
been so ill, that the day she was seized I thought she
would not live till night. Her herculean weakness, which
could not resist strawberries and cream after supper, has
surmounted all the ups and downs which followed her
excess ; but her impatience to go everywhere and to do
everything has been attended with a kind of relapse, and
another kind of giddiness ; so that I am not quite easy
about her, as they allow her to take no nourishment to
recruit, and she will die of inanition, if she does not live
upon it. She cannot lift her head from the pillow without
etourdissemens ; and yet her spirits gallop faster than any-
body's, and so do her repartees. She has a great supper
to-night for the Due de Choiseul, and was in such a passion
yesterday with her cook about it, and that put Tonton into
such a rage, that nos dames de Saint-Joseph thought the devil
or the philosophers were flying away with their convent !
1775] To the Son. Henry Seymour Conway 263
As I have scarce quitted her, I can have had nothing to
tell you. If she gets well, as I trust, I shall set out on
the 12th; but I cannot leave her in any danger — though
I shall run many myself, if I stay longer. I have kept
such bad hours with this malade, that I have had alarms
of gout; and bad weather, worse inns, and a voyage in
winter, will ill suit me. The fans arrived at a propitious
moment, and she immediately had them opened on her
bed, and felt all the patterns, and had all the papers
described. She was all satisfaction and thanks, and swore
me to do her full justice to Lady Aylesbury and Mrs. Darner.
Lord Harrington and Lady Harriet are arrived ; but have
announced and persisted in a strict invisibility.
I know nothing of my cMre patrie, but what I learn from
the London Chronicle ; and that tells me, that the trading
towns are suing out lettres de noblesse, that is, entreating
the King to put an end to commerce, that they may all
be gentlemen. Here agriculture, economy, reformation,
philosophy, are the hon ton even at court. The two nations
seem to have crossed over and figured in ; but as people
that copy take the bad with the good, as well as the good
with the bad, there was two days ago a great horse-race
in the Plain de Sablon, between the Comte d'Artois, the
Due de Chartres, Monsieur de Conflans, and the Due de
Lauzun. The latter won by the address of a little English
postillion, who is in such fashion that I don't know whether
the Academy will not give him for the subject of an
eloge.
The Due de Choiseul, I said, is here; and, as he has
a second time put off his departure, cela fait beaucoup
de bruit I shall not be at all surprised if he resumes the
reins, as (forgive me a pun) he has the Beine already.
Messrs. de Turgot and Malesherbes certainly totter — but
I shall tell you no more till I see you ; for though this
264 To the Hon. Henry Seymour Conway [i775
goes by a private hand, it is so private, that I don't know
it, being an English merchant's, who lodges in this hotel,
and whom I do not know by sight : so, perhaps, I may
bring you word of this letter myself. I flatter myself
Lady Aylesbury's arm has recovered its straightness and
its cunning.
Madame du Deffand says I love you better than any-
thing in the world. If true, I hope you have not less
penetration : if you have not, or it is not true, what would
professions avail? — So I leave that matter in suspense.
Adieu !
Oct. 7.
Madame du Deffand was quite well yesterday ; and at
near one this morning I left the Due de Choiseul, the
Duchesse de Grammont, the Prince and Princess of Beauvau,
Princess of Poix', the Mar^chale de Luxembourg, Duchesse
de Lauzun, Dues de Gontaut ^ et de Chabot ', and Caraccioli,
round her chaise longue ; and she herself was not a dumb
personage. I have not heard yet how she has slept, and
must send away my letter this moment, as I must dress
to go to dinner with Monsieur de Malesherbes at Madame
de Villegagnon's. I must repose a great while after all
this living in company ; nay, intend to go very little into
the world again, as I do not admire the French way of
burning one's candle to the very snuff in public. Tell
Mrs. Damer that the fashion now is to erect the toupee
into a high detached tuft of hair, like a cockatoo's crest ;
and this toupie they call la physionomie — I don't guess
why.
Letter 1648. — 1 Anne Louise Gontaut, Duo de Gontant, Lien-
Marie de Beauvau, daughter of the tenant-General . and Governor of
Prince de Craon; m. (1767) PhUippe Languedoo.
Louis Marie Antoine de Noailles, ^ Probably Louis Marie Bretagne
Prince de Poix, son of the Marfiohal Dominique de Eohan-Chabot (1710-
de Noailles. 1801), Duo de Eohan.
^ Charles Antoine Axmand de
1775] To Sir Horace Mann 265
My laquais is come back from St. Joseph's, and says
Marie de Vichy * has had a very good night, and is quite
well. — Philip" ! let my chaise be ready on Thursday.
1649. To SiE HoEACE Mann.
Paris, Oct. 10, 1775.
I AM still here, though on the wing. Your answer to
mine from hence was sent back to me from England ; as
I have loitered here beyond my intention ; in truth, from
an indisposition of mind. I am not impatient to be in
a frantic country, that is stabbing itself in every vein. The
delirium still lasts ; though, I believe, kept up by the quacks
that caused it. Is it credible that five or six of the great
trading towns have presented addresses against the Ameri-
cans? I have no doubt but those addresses are procured
by those boobies the country gentlemen, their members,
and bought of the aldermen ; but is it not amazing that
the merchants and manufacturers do not duck such tools
in a horse-pond? When the storm will recoil I do not
know, but it will be terrible in all probability, though too
late. Never shall we be again what we have been ! Other
powers, who sit still, and wisely suffer us to plunge over
head and ears, will perhaps be alarmed at what they write
from England, that we are to buy twenty thousand Eussian
assassins, at the price of Georgia : how deep must be our
game, when we pursue it at the expense of establishing
a new maritime power, and aggrandize that engrossing
throne, which threatens half Europe, for the satisfaction
of enslaving our own brethren ! Horrible policy ! If the
Americans, as our papers say, are on the point of seizing
Canada, I should think that France would not long remain
• The maiden name of Madame ° Mr. Walpole's valet de chambre.
du Deffand. Walpole. Walpole,
266 To Sir Horace Mann [l775
neuter, when she may regain her fur trade with the Cana-
dians, or obtain Canada from the Americans : but it is
endless to calculate what we may lose. Our court has
staked everything against despotism ; and the nation, which
must be a loser, whichever side prevails, takes part against
the Americans, who fight for the nation as well as for
themselves ! What Egyptian darkness !
This country is far more happy. It is governed by
benevolent and beneficent men, under a prince who has
not yet betrayed a fault, and who will be as happy as his
people if he always employs such men. Messieurs de
Turgot and Malesherbes are philosophers in the true sense,
that is, legislators; but, as their plans tend to serve the
public, you may be sure they do not please interested
individuals. The French, too, are light and fickle; and
designing men, who have no weapon against good men but
ridicule, already employ it to make a trifling nation laugh
at its benefactors: and, if it is the fashion to laugh, the
laws of fashion will be executed preferably to those of
common sense.
There is a great place just vacant. The Mar^chal de Muy,
Secretaire d'Etat pour la Guerre, died yesterday, having
been cut the day before for the stone. The operation lasted
thirty-five ages, that is, minutes !
Our Parliament meets on the 26th, and I suppose will
act as infamously as it did last year. It cannot do worse, —
scarce so ill, for now it cannot act inconsiderately. To
joke in voting a civU war is the conible of infamy. I hope
it will present flattering addresses on our disgraces, and
heap taxes on those who admire the necessity of them. If
the present generation alone would be punished by inviting
the yoke, it were pity but it were already on their necks !
Do not wonder at my indignation, nor at my indulging
it. I can write freely hence — from England, where I may
1775] To the Countess of Upper Ossory 267
find the Inquisition, it would not be so prudent ; but judge
of our situation, when an EngUshman, to speak his mind,
must come to France ! and hither I will come unless the
times alter. I had rather live where a Maupeou * is banished,
than where he is Chief Justice ".
I know nothing of their Koyal Highnesses^, nor have
heard of them since they were at Strasburg. I wrote twice
to Venice; and if they think me in England, and have
written thither, I should have received the letter, as I did
yours, unless it is stopped. I can give you no advice,
but to act prudently and decently, as you always do. If
you receive orders, you must obey them. If you do not,
you may show disposition ; and yet I would not go too far.
Even under orders, you may intimate concern ; but I would
express nothing in vsrriting. My warmth may hurt myself,
but never shall make me forget the interest of my friends.
Adieu !
1650. To THE Countess of Uppee Ossoby.
Arlington Street, Oct. 17, 1775.
Peincess, in spite of fortune, fate, and chance,
I'm once again return'd to you from France.
I will not maintain, Madam, that this couplet is abso-
lutely stolen out of any French play, but it is so like the
debut of many of their tragedies, that I think it could not
have come into my head if I had not remembered it.
Whether it is Eacine's or not, it suits my purpose so exactly,
that I could not help employing it, and I beg your Lady-
ship will believe the sentiment sincere, though couched in
poetry. I wUl not quote Virgil for the circumstance of
Leitee 1649. — 1 Chancellor of Walpole.
France. WalpoU. ' The Duke and Duchess of Q-lou-
2 Alluding to Lord Mansfield. oester. WalpoU.
268 To the Countess of Upper Ossory [1775
my journey, for I was much more terns jactatus than alto ;
the roads were very rough, but the sea so smooth that it
cost fifteen hours to pass from Calais to Dover, what wind
there was being perfectly neuter. However, here I am, and
as my motto says, ever yours, &c.
P.S. My letter concluded so happily, that though pro-
fessional and civil conclusions are totally out of fashion,
I could not help ending there ; but to take off the formality,
I add a few words; and to tell you I have bought your
two bobbins and a bit of china ; no, it is not come, but
I hope wiU, and will be a great rarity : for to my sorrow
I did not know that last year's Act, to favour the Bristol
manufacturer, laid a duty of one hundred and fifty per cent,
on Trench china, and I paid at Dover seven guineas and
a half for a common set of coffee things that had cost me
but five. As I came but this morning, I have not time
to add more, though I would not let the newspaper have
the pleasure of telling you that I was arrived.
P.S. I left poor Mr. Crawfurd flayed alive, that is, his
foot — I never saw so horrid a sight. The quack brought off
the whole coat of his foot at once, and it looks like a leg
anatomized and thrown on a dunghill ; yet the man had
made him walk a mile on it the day before I set out. My
Lord Lovat might as well have put on a cravat after his
head was off.
1651. To THE Countess of Upper Ossoky.
strawberry Hill, Oct. 21, 1775.
I COULD tell you. Madam, when the moon will change,
but not when Mr. Crawfurd will set out. Poor soul !
I do not guess when he will be able ; but, perhaps, he will
1775] To Sir Horace Mann 269
attempt it for variety. However, pray write to him ; it
will be kind, and direct it to Mr. Panchaud. If your letter
misses him, there will be no great harm, as I suppose you
will not tell him any great secrets.
For my visiting Ampthill just now, it is totally im-
possible. I have run strangely in debt to my own business,
and find my hands full. I had left a purchase or two here
unfinished. My poor sister, Mrs. Daye, is dead, and I have
her affairs to settle. General Cholmondeley has made me
one of his executors, and though I shall give up that
charge, I must give it up, and must go to town to-morrow
upon it. I have commissions from France to execute ;
and, in short, have such a jumble of two nations in my
head, that I want a few days of entire repose, before
I shall get into my common sense again. Besides, come
to Ampthill ! Why is not your Ladyship coming to town ?
I will not deliver a bobbin but in Seymour Place, nor make
a visit farther out of town.
1652. To Sir Horace Mann.
Arlington Street, Oct. 23, 1775.
This will be delivered to you by Mr. Pars', a painter,
who is going to improve himself in Italy. He has already
great merit, and has done several things for me, particularly
washed drawings of Strawberry, of which he can talk to
you very perfectly. This was hia style originally. He
executed an excellent volume full of them for Lord Palmer-
ston'', one of the Lords of the Admiralty, his protector.
He has since taken to oil and portraits. Pray assist him as
much as you can, particularly by strong recommendations
Lettek 1652. — ^ Mr. Pars died at ston. Mr. Para had been in Switzer-
Bome in 1782. Walpole. land with his Lordship to take views.
2 Henry Temple, Viscount Palmer- Walpole,
270 To the Bev. William Mason [l775
to Eome and Cardinal Albani\ Pray, too, make him
do a view of Fiesole for me. He is very modest, sensible,
and intelligent, and not mad, or I would not recommend
him so strongly. I give him a letter to Sir William
Hamilton.
1653. To THE Eev. "William Mason.
strawberry Hill, Oct. 25, 1775.
I AM returned to my own Lares and Penates — to my doga
and cats; and was not a little edified by my journey.
I saw a King who accords everything that is asked for the
good of his people, and I saw two ministers, Messieurs de
Malesherbes and Turgot, who do not let their master's
benevolent disposition rust. The latter is attempting to
take off corvees, that quintessence of cruel and ostentatious
I despotism, but the country gentlemen, that race of interested
1 stupidity, will baffle him. Monsieur de Malesherbes, in the
most simple and unaffected manner, gave me an account
of his visitation of the Bastile, whence he released the
prisoners, half of whom were mad with their misfortunes,
and many of whom he could not find even the causes of
their commitment. One man refused his liberty: he said
he had been prisoner fifteen years, and had nothing in the
world left ; that the King lodged and fed him, and he
would not quit the Bastille unless they would give him half
his pension. M. de Malesherbes reported it to the King,
who replied, ' C'est juste,' and the man has fifteen hundred
livres a year and his freedom. This excellent magistrate,
who made my tears run down my cheeks, added that what the
' prisoners complained of most was the want of pen and ink.
He ordered it. The demons remonstrated and said the
» Cardinal Alexander Albani, and a great lover of virtii. He was
youngest nephew of Clement XI also a friend to England. Walpole,
1775] To the Bev. William Mason 271
prisoners would only make use of the pen to write memo-
rials against the ministers ; he replied, ' Tant mieux.' He is
going to erect a court of six masters of request to examine
the petitions of those who demand lettres de cachet for their
relations. Under the late Due de la Vrillifere, his mistress,
Madame Sabatin, had a bureau of printed lettres de cachet with
blanks, which she sold for twenty-five louis apiece. When
a great Scotch judge was last in France, at the restoration
of the old Parliament, he said, ' If the ministers mean the
good of the people, they are doing right, but if they regard
the prerogative of the crown, very wrong.' What a dia-
bolical But ! Do not imagine these ministers will hold
their places long ; they will soon be epigrammatized out of
them. The first event since my retm;n, after hearing of
this gaol-delivery, is Mr. Sayer ' being sent to the Bastille ;
but it is not the prisoners in this country that are mad, but
the ministers. They have committed him for designing to
steal the Tower and the King, he and one more ; and
I suppose send them to New York ; not to Halifax, for
that is gone, and Quebec too, and Boston by this time.
So now we know what we have to do ; only retake all
America, which is very easy, from three hundred thousand
cowards.
26th, Arlington Street.
I had written thus far last night, as you perceive, and
find your letter on my return, for which I would thank you
more if you did not say such fine things to me. Pray never
do any more ; I have no talent, nor anything else but taste
for those who have, and that taste is almost a sinecure.
If I had time I could increase your ' Kingstoniana ' with
still better stories, but she is not worth one's while. I have
Lkttke 1653. — ' A banker of bad swore that Sayer had offered him
credit, arrested on a charge of high fifteen hnndred ponnds to assist him
treason on the oath of an American in seizing the Tower and the King's
officer named Richardson. The latter person.
272 To the Bev. William Mason [i775
but just a moment to ask if there is any chance of seeing
you this winter, which would be a great comfort, and I am
not young enough to put off my pleasures. Adieu !
Pray did you pay Mr. Peckitt ? Tell me that I may pay
you or him.
1654. To THE Eev. William Mason.
Arlington Street, Oct. 27, 1775.
I WAS at Strawberry Hill when your letter arrived, and
could not thank you for it so early as I should have done
if I had received it sooner. If my description of the Moulin
Joli pleased you, it was from the circumstances of the place,
for I neither describe well nor recount well, nor have any
original talent. I pretend to nothing but taste for talents,
and that taste is almost a sinecure. I am returned because
I wanted to be at home ; not that I was particularly charmed
with France, or impatient to be in England ; but when one
is old and has no particular business anywhere, methinks
one is depleted anywhere but cJiem soi. The Amor patriae
burns in me no fiercer than love for my wife would, if
I had one and she proved a shrew. I love the free con-
stitution of England more than the acres, and should wish
better to California if it had the better form of government ;
not but I can feel the pride of patriotism when my country
is worth being proud of: when it sinks by its own foUy,
I content myself with my citizenship of the world, and pray
for that part that is most reasonable.
I could improve your ' Kingstoniana ' if I had leisure ;
the subject in truth is little worth it, but as superlative
in its kind. My chief business with you is to know if I am
likely to see you this winter. My pleasures grow dear to
me because I have no long time to enjoy them, and cannot
live on hopes. Though I still live in the world, most of
1775] To the JRev. William Mason 273
my hours are passed alone, because they are not passed
with the few I love, and all the rest are perfectly in-
different to me. Old people are thought to have little
affection : how is that possible, for they seem to like com-
pany to the last? I should as soon think of taking leave
of everybody if I was dying. Of my cotemporaries for
whom I do not care, I have seen or known enough, or too
much, and to converse with young people is like asking for
the beginning of a story of which one is never to hear the
end. With you I can never pass time enough, and alas ! pass
very little ; you are not, ought not to be so indifferent to
the world as I am, and as you live more out of it, why
should not you keep up a little acquaintance with it ?
Your chief reason against coming is worn out by length of
time, and other circumstances are such as to dispense with
the reiteration of the grievance. It would not be expected,
and probably not desired ; I dare to say the coolness is
sufficiently established.
As I am in town you may expect to talk of what you
will see so much in the newspapers, the commitment of
Mr. Sayer ; but it appears to me so nonsensical a business,
that I charitably conclude the ministers have some deeper
scheme in view. They can never have sent a man to the
Tower that they should have sent to Bedlam, if they do
not want a pretence for greater strokes ; or choose to be
laughed at for this, rather than have the people find fault
with something else. However, they have brought them-
selves into such difSculties that I shall not wonder if they
are puzzled which to prefer, and as it certainly is not genius
that has led them into the scrape, it is not likely to help
them out.
Tell me what is more to my purpose, what you have
been doing. I am going to read Sterne's Letters. From
Paris I have absolutely brought nothing at all: my good
WAIPOLE. JX T
274 To the DuJce of BicJimond [i775
friend, Europe, is worn out ; perhaps genius may rekindle
in America, but what is that to me ? Adieu !
P.S. I have run through a volume of Sterne's Letters,
and have read more unentertaining stuff. The Duke of
Grafton, Lord Lyttelton, and the Bishop of Peterborough '
divided yesterday with the opposition. Don't you think
the ship is sinking ? Come and see.
1655. To THE Duke of Richmond.
My dear Lord, Oct. 27, 1775.
You have not been a very active opposition, but may
plead in excuse that you could do no good. Now you
can — or never. Give the ministers no respite. Press them
with questions and motions, leave their poor heads no time
to think of what they ought to think of, the next campaign.
Call for papers. Don't mind being refused. Talk of their
waste. Ask for pension lists, inquire after those scan-
dalous ones to the widows or wives of Bradshaw, Nuthall ',
Fordyce. Lament the hard fate of the poor country gentle-
men who must pay for all this waste, and the enormous
expenses of the war too. Inquire how much of the national
Debt has been paid in twelve years — and how much the late
Addresses have cost. Ask if 5,000Z. has not been sent this
year to bribe the Indians, who yet have not joined them.
Ask what douceurs have been given to Scotch contractors.
Ask what the Catholics in Canada have done in return for
the restoration of their religion and the abolition of juries
Lhttee 1654. — ^ Dr. HmcMiffe. teen thousand pounds, and that his
Lbttkh 1655."—! Thomas Nuthall, widow had a pension of three hun-
Solioitor to the Treasury; he died dred pounds to induce her to give
a few hours after being shot by up her husband's papers ; he had
a highwayman on Hounslow Heath been engaged in many election
in March 1775. Horace Walpole matters. (£as< JoMmab, vol. i p. 496.)
states that he had embezzled nine-
1775] To the Duke of Bichmond 275
—and will you not ask who was the author of that code ?
Is abolition of juries part of the spirit of toleration ? Will
you not inquire whether Lord Dunmore ' has not for these
two years (before the Virginians took any part) endeavoured
to involve them in a war with the Indians ? Will you not
ask whether they have not tried to raise Eoman Catholics
in Ireland? Suppose you inquired what the prosecutions
of Wilkes cost (above 100,000?.), and whether they intend
(for the ease of country gentlemen) to lay out as much
on Sayer. Will you not complain how long the half-pay
was delayed, nor inquire into the expenses of the trans-
ports to Boston? Will you not lament the hard fate of
the soldiers forced to go against their countrymen, and
then left without bark or bandages for their wounds, and
with nothing but salt provisions? Will you not smile at
Gage being recalled and made Generalissimo? In short,
will you neither laugh nor cry, or will you leave them to
laugh if you do not make them cry ? The Duke of Grafton
and Lord Lyttelton see their difBculties— will you not make
them feel them? Why did General Burgoyne desire to
be recalled ? and why is he still employed ? Since the
Prerogative Proclamation cuts off all intercourse, is Parlia-
ment to vote money in the dark ? Will you not move
to know whether Halifax and Nova Scotia and Quebec are
gone ? Will you not complain of all intelligence being
stifled, and the nation being kept in profound ignorance
and delusion? Are there no petitions from the West
Indian Islands ? Shall not the good country gentlemen
be let into their situation ? In short, my dear Lord, if you
please, you may pelt and harass them with questions and
delays, which they will attend more to than to America.
Frighten them, or at least other people, with the French
preparing to attack us in the East Indies. And pray ask
2 Governor of Virginia.
T 2
276 To Sir Horace Mann [i775
whether the stocks have not been kept up by the trust-
money in Chancery. I will engage to furnish you with
motions and grievances to midsummer — and if you keep
this and turn to it, you will not want subjects. Tell them
of all their false promises and prophecies, not one of which
has been fulfilled ; and do not forget Lord Hillsborough's
breach of the King's faith. You have spirit and activity
enough yourself, my Lord — breathe it into your friends ;
and make them inquire whether the conciliatory commis-
sioners are gone, and what their commissions are ; and
whether they expect the Americans will trust them, when
the vUe eguivocatory bill of conciliation last year Lord North
himself could not carry till Wedderbum declared it was not
meant in earnest ? — but is it not plain, by their having re-
course to it in the Speech, that they are already treating ?
Nor is this the only falsehood in the Speech : they talk of
foreign Powers offering them troops ; is begging being
offered ? And if those foreign Powers are not Eussia, but
little Hesse, &c., are those foreign Powers'} I would even
move to address, that if Eussians are sent, no post may be
put into their hands — no matter for a negative being put ;
it would get into the votes and spread jealousy.
There, my Lord, is a plan for your campaign. I am
very presumptuous ; but I will ask an account of it at the
end of the session. I hope you are content with Mr. C
1656. To Sib Horace Mann.
Arlington Street, Oct. 28, 1775.
As this letter will go to Paris by a private hand before
it gets to the post, I shall not change the late free style
of my letters, but speak my mind. Not having always the
same opportunity, I shall be more circumspect both for your
sake and my own.
' Probably General Conyfaj.
1775] To Sir Horace Mann 277
At my return I found everything in great confusion.
The ministers had only provoked and united — not intimi-
dated, wounded, or divided America. Errors in or neglect
of execution have rendered everything much worse ; and
at this instant they are not sure that the King has a
foot of dominion left on that continent. Boston must be,
if it is not, abandoned : Halifax, with a stand of seven
thousand arms, artillery, &c., is taken', — and well it might
be ! It was guarded but by fifty men ! Canada is in equal
danger, and the first letters are likely to say it is gone.
The ministers say it will take sixty thousand men to
reconquer America. They will as soon have sixty thousand
armies. Whether they can get any Eussians is not even
yet certain ; and, as it is said they must buy them by
ceding some post, it is not credible that the other European
Powers will wink at that growing puissance becoming a
maritime one. Distresses and difficulties increase every
day, and genius does not burgeon in proportion.
Before I tell you of the opening of the Parliament, I must
treat you with a farce, which is contrary to the theatric
rule. Whether they were frightened themselves, or meant
to frighten others, two days before the meeting, the ministers
cried out, ' A plot ! ' and took and committed to the Tower
a Mr. Sayer, a banker of no great credit, and lately one
of Wilkes's sheriffs. A young American officer of still
worse character swore Sayer had tried to bribe him to
betray the Tower ; and, as if that was not trusting him
enough, communicated his intention of seizing the King
as he should go to the House. The ministers, as grave
as they looked, could not keep anybody from laughing — no,
though they trebled the Guards. In short, I have heard this
morning that they have blundered in the warrant, just as
they did in Wilkes's, must release Sayer, and he will be at
Lbtteb 1656. — 1 This did not prove true. Walpole.
278 To Sir Horace Mann [i775
liberty, instead of being, as he ought to be, in Bedlam.
Earl Eochford' will be prosecuted in his room, instead of
being shut up for a fool, as he ought to be.
In both Houses the war was brisk and warm ; the Lords
sat till eleven, and the Commons till four, and the court
was galled, though it kept the field. In the former House
the Lord Privy Seal Grafton deserted and fired on them ;
so did the virtuous Lord Lyttelton", whom they have so
much tried to blanch ; but as they had only given him
whitewash, not money to buy it, he is seeking to plunder
from the other camp. In the Commons, Mr. Conway, in
a better speech than ever was made, exposed all their
outrages and blunders ; and Charles Fox told Lord North
that nor Alexander nor Caesar had ever conquered so much
as he had lost in one campaign. Even his Lordship's
friends, nay the Scotch, taunt him in public with his
laziness.
This is a sketch of the present situation : I think it will
not mend abroad, and must grow more turbulent at home.
France and Spain, by only feeding the war underhand, can
baffle all our attempts ; and without their declaring them-
selves, we must exhaust our men, money, navies, and trade.
These are the four trifling articles we pay for the old
scheme of arbitrary power. When will the Kings of
England learn how great they may be by the constitution ;
how sure of ruin if they try to be despotic ? Cannot the
fate of the Stuarts teach even the House of Hanover to
have common sense? In the meantime, if France has
the sense to keep its present ministers*, it will soon be
greater than ever. I could not have believed, if I had not
seen with my own eyes, how very flourishing it is to what
p The Secretary of State who com- * It had not ; Target was re-
mitted Sayer. Walpole. moved, and Malesherbes resigned.
s Thomas, second Lord Lyttelton. Walpole.
Walpole,
1775] To the Countess of Upper Ossory 279
it was four years ago. It is safe, too, in that country to
indulge the people in plenty, ease, liberty ; for they who
could admire even Louis Quatorze adored Henri Quatre ;
but what signify commonplace reflections? Princes do
not read my letters, but always forfeit their own greatness
by listening to ministers who dip them in visions of power
only to augment their own. A king might go to sleep and
be happy, and let his people be so, if he had no ministers,
who would abuse his authority during his nap. Adieu!
my dear Sir ; I have not time or occasion to say more.
I have given you a clue to my future letters, and you will
not want to have notes to them.
1657. To THE Countess of Uppeb Ossory.
Arlington Street, Nov. 9, 1775.
YoxT say ironically. Madam, that I do not think at all
about politics. I object to the expression, more than to the
purport of that phrase, if you mean by it that I am eager.
The truth is, I think too seriously on our present situation
to be eager. Eagerness implies hopes — and I have none.
I think this country undone, almost beyond redemption.
Victory in any war but a civil one fascinates mankind with
a vision of glory. What should we gain by triumph itself?
Would America laid waste, deluged with blood, plundered,
enslaved, replace America flourishing, rich, and free? Do
we want to reign over it, as the Spaniards over Peru,
depopulated? Are desolate regions preferable to com-
mercial cities? But if the provincials conquer, are they,
like lovers, to kiss and be friends ? Who are the heroes,
where are the statesmen, that shall restore us to the position
in which we stood two years ago ?
These reflections fill me with melancholy, not with ardour.
My pride, as an Englishman, is hurt. I often go to France
280 To the Countess of Upper Ossory [i775
without loving that country, and I know with indignation,
I saw with indignation, that they exult in our blunders and
absurdity. We have already saved them more than half
the labour of the next war, and shall bring it on as soon
again as it would have come. Then will the ministers
triumph ? Tlien will begging another peace avail ? Perhaps
I am foolish to feel all this. Young men that must live to
see it would have reason to be hurt, if young men were
so ill employed as to anticipate the vexations of age. I
probably have little time to be witness to the humiliations
that are approaching. Father Paul's' esto perpetual was
more the prayer of a good man, than of a wise one.
Countries are but great families, that rise from obscurity to
dignity and then degenerate. This little island, that for
many centuries was but a merchant, married a great fortune
in the last war, got a title, grew insolent and extravagant,
despised its original counter, quarrelled with its factors,
kicked its plebeian wife out of doors, and thought, by
putting on an old red coat, to hector her relations out of
the rest of her fortune, which remained in their hands as
trustees. Europe, that was jealous of this upstart captain's
sudden rise, encouraged him in his folly, in hopes of seeing
him quite undone. End of volume the first. The second
part is in the press.
News of to-day. — The Duke of Grafton dismissed.
News of to-morrow. — Lord George Germaine, Secretary
of State.
No news. — Lord Lyttelton to have a place''.
I have been in pain for the Duke of Gloucester; but
as no account has come since last Friday, I flatter myself
he is out of danger, his disorder being the same as he had
Lkttkr 1657.— iPietroSarpi (1552- « That of Chief Justice in Eyre
1623), known as Era Paolo, the his- south of Trent,
torian of the Council of Trent.
1775] To Sir Horace Mam 281
before when last at Florence, and which would either have
carried him off soon, or must have been stopped by the
bark, as I trust it has been. But I am prepared against
all events : time is a great philosophizer. You say you
augur so ill. Madam, that you will not be scandalized at
the gravity of my letter. Mine take their complexion from
the colour of the hour, and, as cheerfulness oftenest pre-
dominates in me, I shall laugh again. It is very hard if
they who are innocent of their country's ruin may not
smile, as well as they who are guilty of it. I can conceive
why Caesar should have cut his own throat, but I never
understood why Cato did.
1658. To SiE Horace Mann.
Arlington Street, Nov. 14, 1775.
YouE letter, my dear Sir, of the 28th, which I received
last night, is infinitely kind to me — but is that new ? We
had not only been alarmed to the utmost about the Duke ',
but remained ten days in that anxiety. Thank God !
yesterday a letter under his own hand dispelled all om*
fears, and he is so well as to be set out to Eome. I am
very sorry you had received no orders for your behaviour,
because it leaves the Duke room to think you might have
done more than I hope you have done ; but your first duty
is to the King ; you were my friend long before I had the
honour of knowing his Eoyal Highness, and no attachments
of mine can make me ever even wish that any friend of
mine should act contrary to his duty. I am sure you have
not ; and if the Duke should not be quite pleased with you,
though I flatter myself he is too just not to weigh your
situation, you must bear it with patience, and comfort
yourself with having acted rightly.
Lettbb 1668. — t The Duke of Ctloucester. Walpole,
282 To Sir Horace Mann [i775
Though I hear so much of it, I know not what to say
of America. It is certain that the campaign has answered
none of the expectations of the administration. It seems
to be the opinion now that they will think of pacific
measures. They have even talked in Parliament of treating.
You may be sure that system would be agreeable to my
politics ; but I doubt peace is not so near. The Parliament
grants whatever is asked ; and yet a great alteration has
happened in the admiaistration. The Duke of Grafton
has changed sides, and was turned out last Friday. Lord
Kochford, too, has retired, though not out of humour ; and
Lord Dartmouth has quitted the American province and
taken the Privy Seal. Lord George Germaine is made
Secretary of State for America, and Lord Weymouth has
taken the southern province. Lord Ashburnham is to be
Groom of the Stole, Lord Pelham Master of the Great
Wardrobe, and Lord Lyttelton Justice in Eyre. The town
is impatient to see whether this change of men implies
any change of measures. I do not see why it should, for
none of the new ministers have ever inclined to the
Americans ; and I doubt whether the success of the latter
will make them have a better disposition towards the
present administration. They have felt their strength,
and experienced how much less hurt we can do them than
we imagined. If they have such ideas of independence
as have been imputed to them, and as probably some
ambitious men among them may have, we have done
nothing to convince them that their plan is impracticable ;
but for me, I own I know nothing, and all my conjectures
may be wrong.
We have scarce any other news. Madame Kingston has
petitioned the House of Lords for her trial ; but they seem
neither eager to acquit or condemn her. Nobody would
mind the first, and she would not mind the second, as
1775] To Sir Horace Mann 283
it would go only to infamy, which she has shown she can
digest.
Orloff the Great, or rather the Big '', is here ; and as
proud of his infamous diamonds as the Duchess of Kingston
herself. He dances gigantic dances and makes gigantic
love ; but no conquests : yet he has quitted his post with
honour, for the Empress has appointed two to supply his
functions — I suppose they are Gog and Magog. Orloff
talks an infinite deal of nonsense ; but parts are not neces-
sary to a royal favourite or to an assassin.
I am rejoiced you are to have so much of your nephew,
and that Lady Lucy is better. I long heartily for a little
Man-n.
You will ere long see Mr. Pars, a young painter, who
is going to study at Eome. I had given him a strong letter
to you. Poor man ! He has lost his portmanteau between
Calais and Paris, and with it everything he had in the
world ; yet he persists. Pray be kind to him for my sake
and for his misfortune. He is very ingenious, and has
taken to oUs. He was admirable in washed views, and has
done several of Strawberry, of which he can talk to you by
heart. Assist him too in recommendations at Eome as
much as you can. He is particularly patronized by Lord
Palmerston, one of the Lords of the Admiralty.
So the Pretender is in a dying way ! and wants an heir ! —
It is not a race of phoenixes. Sir Eoger Newdigate is at
Eome, and formerly would have been proud to be chief
mourner at his funeral.
You may imagine I shall not be quite easy till the
Duchess ' is delivered and well. I trembled for her when
the Duke was ill, as his death might have occasioned
hers too.
» The faronrite lover of the Em- ' The Duchess of Gloucester,
press Catherine II. Walpole. Walpole.
284 To the Countess of JJ]p]^er Ossory [i775
1659. To THE Countess op TJppeb Ossoey.
Arlington Street, Nov. 18, 1775.
Be perfectly at ease and happy, our Lady ! for Our Lord
spoke with modesty, decency, dignity, sense, and conviction.
He regretted being forced to quit his friends^, though not
so much as they regret his quitting them : all this I firmly
believe, for I know nothing of the matter, having gone out
of town yesterday, and being but this minute returned.
I do know he spoke, for he told me so himself when
I called yesterday to leave your cup with him ; but as
he is the last man in the world to commend himself, he
would not tell me a syllable, but that he soon recovered
the first awful moment of hearing his own voice in a dead
silence. I will answer for all the rest. He said his brother
spoke charmingly, and Charles Fox better than ever. He
made such a pathetic eloge of the two brothers that every
feeling eye was in tears. I am going about the town to
hear all their praises, but I must not expect them in some
houses. Oh, notre dame, give us a son and heir ! I would
vow a silver babe to Loretto, if that would do.
1660. To the Countess of Uppee Ossoey.
Nov. 23, 1775.
As the two ladies must be very angry at Lord 0., I am
not much surprised, Madam, that they impute his desertion
to you. They must both think it a great reflection on a
man's understanding to be governed by his wife; and to
charge it on your Ladyship is to depreciate Mm. In truth,
when one can fix the blemish of madness on Mr. Crewe,
LsTTEB 1659 — 1 Lord Ossory and patriok, had left the ootrrt party, and
his brother, Hon. Eiohard Eitz- declared themselves in opposition.
1775] To the Countess of Upper Ossory 285
only to keep another nephew from making him a visit, one
must have very little charity for one's neighbour. How-
ever, be easy, Madam ; I dare to say they will make Lord
Ossory amends by offering to buy him off, and if they could
disgrace him in that manner, they would perfectly forgive
him. The speeches have given me additional pleasure, as
I hear a third aunt, who is not displeased at them, was
told (before they spoke) that they were men of no con-
sequence but from being her nephews. I hope they will
keep up their own importance, or they will be swallowed
up in Lord George's^ fame, who engrosses all tongues.
He puts me in mind of some lines written by Lord
Lansdowne, when prisoner in the Tower, in the same room
where my father had been confined ; the last verse was.
Some fall so hard, they bound and rise again.
I think nobody can doubt of Lord George's resolution, since
he has exposed himself to the artillery of the whole town.
Indeed I always believed him brave, and that he sacrificed
himself to sacrifice Prince Ferdinand.
1 wish I could tell you anything but politics. Madam,
politician as you are christened by your godmothers ; but
one hears nothing else. On Sunday night, indeed, I was
singularly entertained at Monsieur de Guines's, who gave
a vast supper to the Prince of Hesse and the goddesses
most in fashion, as the Duchess of Devonshire, Lady Sefton,
&c. We were twenty-eight at supper; but before it, a
Monsieur Tessier'^, of whom I have heard much in France,
acted an entire play of ten characters, and varied his voice,
and countenance, and manner, for each so perfectly, that he
Lettbe 1660. — ^ Lord George imaging de former sa voix, natorelle-
Germain. ment flexible, & lire toua lea T61es
2 ' M. Le Tessier, recevenr gSnSral d'nne pidce, en lenr dormant & chacun
des fermes de Lyon, homme d'esprit, le ton de leur age et de lenr carao
ayant la passion du theatre, et itani tfire.' (Grimm, Corretpondance Litti-
oomSdien de la tSte aux pieds, a raire, ed. 1 831, voL viii p. 310.)
286 To the Bev. William Mason [i775
did not name the persons that spoke, nor was it necessary.
I cannot decide to which part he did most justice, but
I would go to the play every night if I could see it so acted.
I have heard to-day that your Ladyship has not the sole
honour of perverting Lord Ossory. I am said to be the
serpent that whispered Eve ; and should be proud of it, if
both imputations were not affronts to Lord Ossory's under-
standing, who will do me the justice to allow that I had so
much more respect for it, that I never had the impertinence
of his angry friends to imagine he was to be led ; a civility
for which he is not much obliged to them. Nor do they
know how very seldom I see him, though I am so much in
his way wherever he goes. It is an additional reason for
my wishing your Ladyship in town, that I should see him
sometimes. My poor old Lady Blandford is dying ' ; she
fell down on Monday and broke her thigh — at 78 !
P.S. As I was going to seal my letter, I received your
Ladyship's thanks for the cup, which indeed did not deserve
that you should give yourself so much trouble on purpose.
You have always been so good to me. Madam, and I am so
grateful that if my souvenirs were marked with cups, there
would be many more than milestones from hence to
AmpthUl.
1661. To THE Eet. "William Mason.
Nov. 27, 1775.
I THOUGHT it long since I heard from you. It is plain
you did not forget me, for the first moment of an opportunity
to show me kindness made you show it. Fortunately I had
written to Lord Strafford the very day you wrote to me,
and our letters passed each other, though without bowing.
s She Uved tiU 1779.
1775] To the Bev. William Mason 287
I think it still more fortunate that I had not written sooner,
because I like to be obliged to you. I had delayed because /
in truth I had nothing to say but what I thought ; and !
when my friends and I do not think alike, I prefer silence
to contradiction or disputes, for I cannot say what I do not
think, especially to my friends ; to other people one can
talk a good deal of nonsense, which serves instead of '
thinking.
Your delay of coming displeases me, because what I wish,
I wish for immediately. When spring comes, I shall be
glad my joy was postponed, and I like better to see you at
Strawberry than in town, especially when Strawberry is in
its beauty : and as you and it are two chiefs of the few
pleasures I have left, or to come, I am luxurious and love
a complete banquet.
What shall I say more ? talk politics ? no ; we think
too much alike. England was, Scotland is — indeed by the
blunders the latter has made one sees its Irish origin, — but
I had rather talk of anything else. I see nothing but ruin,
whatever shall happen ; and what idle solicitude is that of
childless old people, who are anxious about the first fifty
years after their death, and do not reflect that in the eternity
to follow, fifty or five hundred years are a moment, and that
all countries fall sooner or later !
Naturally I fly to books : there is a finis too, for I cannot
read Dean Tucker', nor newspapers. We have had nothing
at all this winter but Sterne's Letters, and what are almost
as nothingly — Lady Luxborough's. She does not write ill,
or, as I expected, affectedly, like a woman, but talks of
scrawls, and of her letters being stupid. She had no spirit,
no wit, knew no events ; she idolizes poor Shenstone, who
was scarce above her, and flatters him, to be flattered. A
Letter 1661. — ' Josiah Tucker He published several pamphlets on
(1712-1799), Dean of Gloucester. the American War.
288 To the Countess of U]pper Ossory [1775
stronger proof of her having no taste is, that she says coldly,
she likes Gray's Churchyard well. In good truth the produc-
tions of this country and age are suited to its natives.
Mr. Cumberland, the maker of plays, told me lately, it was
pity Grai/s letters were printed; they had disappointed Mm
much. No doubt he Ukea Sterne's, and Shenstone's, and
Lady Luxborough's. Oh, Dodsley, print away: you will
never want authors or readers, unless a classic work like
Gray's Life should, as Eichardson said of Milton, be ' born
two thousand years after its time ! '
I approve your printing in manuscript, that is, not for the
public, for who knows how long the public will be able, or
be permitted to read ? Bury a few copies against this island
is rediscovered. Some American versed in the old English
language will translate it, and revive the true taste in garden-
ing ; though he will smile at the diminutive scenes on the
little Thames when he is planting a forest on the banks of
the Oronoko. I love to skip into futurity and imagine what
will be done on the giant scale of a new hemisphere ; but
I am in little London, and must go and dress for a dinner
with some of the inhabitants of that ancient metropolis,
now in ruins, which was really for a moment the capital of
a large empire, but the poor man who made it so outlived
himself and the duration of the empire.
1662. To THE Countess op Upper Ossoey.
Dec. 4, 1775.
I PERCEIVED I had not heard from your Ladyship for
some time, but your silence would not have occasioned
mine, if I had known anything worth telling you. I have
not the talent of my brethren, the gazetteers, who always
learn a sheet full of news, whether anything happens or
not; but then they have a crop of debates. I believe
1775] To the Countess of Upper Ossory 289
nobody in London knows so little of what passes in Parlia-
ment as I do. Mr. Ackland^ had run his head against
Charles Fox a week before I heard of it. The town is
beautified with fourscore knights, of new or old Scotia, in
yellow ribbons, and yet I have not seen one of them. How
should I see or know anything ? I seldom stir out of my
house before seven in the evening, see very few persons,
and go to fewer places, make no new acquaintance, and have
seen most of my old wear out. Loo at Princess Amelie's,
loo at Lady Hertford's, are the capital events of my history,
and a Sunday alone, at Strawberry, my chief entertainment.
All this is far from gay ; but as it neither gives me ermui,
nor lowers my spirits, it is not uncomfortable, and I prefer
it to being deplace in younger company. My greatest objec-
tion is, that it often makes me a very unentertaining corre-
spondent at Ampthill ; but this is almost as dull a season of
the year as autumn. I would promise it should mend after
Christmas, but happily you will be in town then, and I shall
pass my time more agreeably, and have no occasion to write.
I am very sorry Lady Holland is out of order ; I hope not
at all seriously, and that you have no occasion to be in the
least alarmed. The sale at Holland House will produce
treasures. I did not go ; it would have been a horrid sight
to me who have lived there so much, but I hear the most
common furniture has sold as dear as relics.
There is another thing concerns me too, — Sir George
Macartney's voyage to the Government of the Grenades.
Lettek 1662. — 1 Major John Dyke against America, Mr. Ackland, liis
Aoland (d. 1778), eldest son of Sir cousin, a hot Tory, warmly resented
Thomas Acland, seventh Baronet, it, and said it was in fitter hands
whom he predeceased ; M.P. for than in those of men who had rained
Callington. He married a daughter themselves by the most scandalous
of Fox's nncle, the Earl of Ilohester, vices. This personality, unprovoked
' In one of the debates on the militia, by any, gave offence. Pox replied :
Charles Fox saying it was not fit to he confessed his errors, and wished
be trusted in hands who could peti- he could atone for them.' (Last
tion the King for pushing the war Journals, vol, i. p. 623.)
WALPOLE. IX U
290 To Sir Horace Mann [i775
There is nobody who is merely an acquaintance that I should
regret more. He is extremely good-humoured, equal, con-
versable on all subjects, unaffected, and perfectly agreeable
in great or small companies. Methinks it would be very
just to write a North Briton against Lord Bute for doing so
little for his own son-in-law.
It is a little late in my letter to express my grief for your
Ladyship's — what disorder? You have not told me, only
that it is a sort of influenza ; so I have a proportionate sort
of concern. It would be very inconvenient to me to be
much afflicted just now for anything, for the King of Prussia
is dying. I would venture to rejoice even if I were his
subject, for a worse Dionysius cannot succeed.
Pray, Madam, tell the nymphs of Ampthill that if I had
a spark of imagination left it should be at their service ; but
old people do nothing but tell old stories, far from inventing
new. The only thing I would ever allow myself to write
more should be like Brantome ; but as everybody's history
in these days is written in newspapers or magazines, my
trouble is luckily saved, and for anything else, it is a maxim
of mine that old folks ought to do nothing at all, for nothing
becomes them. I am very strict to this rule, and, if I ever
break it, set it down that I begin to dote.
Tuesday.
I have just sent to Lady Holland, who has had a good
night, and is much better.
1663. To SiE HoEACE Mann.
Arlington Street, Dec. 8, 1775.
I HAVE received another kind letter from you, my dear
Sir, about the Duke and Duchess. You are very good to
inform me ; for though the Duchess's daughters ' send me
general accounts, I know nothing directly, having received
Lettek 1663. — ' The Ladies Waldegrave,
1775] To Sir Horace Mann 291
but a single letter from her Eoyal Highness since they set
out. I need not say to you that I never had such an
honour from the Duke. He, I do not doubt, is recovered,
and will for some time be the better, as he was before, from
so wholesome an illness. I cannot be so tranquil on her
situation till after her delivery. The greatness of her courage
makes her support conflicts ; but, perhaps, women of less
resolution, who abandon themselves to fears, undergo less
struggles.
Your brother, I believe, is recovered, at least Mr. Croft
thinks so. He is always lame, it is true, but his face still
fresh and juvenile. You and I are wrinkled parchments to
our elder brothers. They are Glastonbury thorns and bloom
at their Christmas. I pretend to grow a little fatter, but
every other winter unravels me like Penelope's web.
There is nothing new here, at least within the sphere of
my knowledge. That circle is of slender extent, and does
not intersect either that of the court or the other of the
opposition : the secrets of neither reach me, who seek not
to penetrate them. We have both martial and pacific
symptoms. Commissaries^ are going with olive-branches,
and Acts of Parliament and regiments with daggers and
swords. We seem to enrage America, as if it were a
passionate man who is very sorry the moment his passion
is over. The House of Commons sits eternally, though half
of the usual number are gone out of town.
I saw the Duchess of Beaufort the other night, who
inquired much after you. You know her daughter ' is soon
to marry Lord Granby.
Tell me truly, is or has the Gabrielli been a great singer?
She has, at least, not honoured us but with a most slender
low voice. Her action is just, but colder than a vestal's.
' Lord Howe and his brother were appointed Commissaries.
5 Lady Mary Somerset.
U 2
292 To the Rev. William Cole [l775
However, as you know, she carries the resemblance no
further, and, consequently, is kept by a Mr. Piers, a very
rich gentleman of Yorkshire, who is so profuse to her, that
I suppose she will be more capricious than ever. We
import superannuated sirens, and spoil them more than
the Italians can afford to do, who at least enjoy them young.
That brave statue. Sir Charles Saunders *, died yesterday.
The present war has not yet furnished us with any recruit
of heroes. A civil war used to be prolific — Europe is veiy
much worn out. It is America's turn to be fruitful of
genius. The last comet of this hemisphere, the King of
Prussia, is on its return. A wit of last century, when
conceits were in fashion, would have said that its blazing
tail turned out, as some philosophers have held, to be water,
for he is dying of a dropsy. I care not of what ; the world
will be delivered from one of its visitations. When Voltaire
follows him, their meeting would make a good Dialogue of
the Dead.
I will not lengthen my letter when I have no more to
say, for though we have an empire at each end of the world,
and a war in both, they do not keep us in daily news ; and,
what is much stranger, their metropolis, London, stagnates ;
but it is generally so about Christmas and autumn: in
February, March, April, and May, our pulses are very
feverish.
1664. To THE Rev. William Cole.
strawberry Hill, Dec. 10, 1775.
I WAS very sorry to have been here, dear Sir, the day you
called on me in town. It is so difScult to uncloister you,
that I regret not seeing you when you are out of your own
ambry. I have nothing new to tell you that is very old ;
but you can inform me of something within your own
« Admiral and Knight of the Bath. He was remarkably taciturn. Walpole.
1775] To the Bev. William Cole 293
district. Who is the author, E. B. G.', of a version of
Mr. Gray's Latin Odes into English ? and of an Elegy on
my wolf-devoured dog, poor Tory?— a name you will
marvel at in a dog of mine ; but his godmother was the
widow of Alderman Parsons, who gave him at Paris to
Lord Conway, and he to me. The author is a poet, but
makes me blush, for he calls Mr. Gray and me congenial
pair. Alas ! I have no genius ; and if any symptom of
talent, so inferior to Gray's, that Milton and Quarles might
as well be coupled together. We rode over the Alps in the
same chaise, but Pegasus drew on his side, and a cart-horse
on mine. I am too jealous of his fame to let us be coupled
together.
This author says he has lately printed at Cambridge
a Latin translation of the Bards ; I should be much obhged
to you for it.
I do not ask you if Cambridge has produced anything,
for it never does. Have you made any discoveries ? Has
Mr. Lort? Where is he? Does Mr. Tyson engrave no
more?
My plates for Strawberry advance leisurely. I am about
nothing. I grow old and lazy, and the present world cares
for nothing but politics, and satisfies itself with writing in
newspapers. If they are not bound up and preserved in
libraries, posterity will imagine that the art of printing was
gone out of use. Lord Hardwicke has indeed reprinted his
heavy volume of Sir Dudley Carleton's Bispatches, and says
I was in the wrong to despise it. I never met with anybody
that thought otherwise. What signifies raising the dead so
often, when they die the next minute ? Adieu !
Yours ever,
H. W.
Lettek 1664. — ' Edward Burnaby lished Tarions translations from
Greene (d. 1788), at this time a Greek and Latin poets,
brewer in Westminster. He pub-
294 To the Rev. William Cole [l775
1665. To THE Countess of Ailesbuey.
Arlington Street, Dec. 11, 1775.
Did you hear that scream ? — Don't be frightened, Madam ;
it was only the Duchess of Kingston last Sunday was seven-
night at chapel : but it is better to be prepared ; for she has
sent word to the House of Lords that her nerves are so bad
she intends to scream for these two months, and therefore
they must put off her trial. They are to take her throes
into consideration to-day ; and that there may be sufficient
room for the length of her veil and train, and attendants,
have a mind to treat her with Westminster Hall. I hope
so, for I should like to see this comedie larmoyante ; and,
besides, I conclude, it would bring your Ladyship to town.
You shall have timely notice.
There is another comedy infinitely worth seeing — Monsieur
Le Tessier. He is Pr^ville, and Caillaud, and Garrick, and
Weston ', and Mrs. Clive, all together ; and as perfect in the
most insignificant part, as in the most diflScult. To be sure,
it is hard to give up loo in such fine weather, when one can
play from morning till night. In London, Pam can scarce
get a house till ten o'clock. If you happen to see the
General, your husband, make my compliments to him,
Madam ; his friend the King of Prussia is going to the
devil and Alexander the Great.
1666. To the Eev. "William Cole.
Arlington Street, Dec. 14, 1775.
OuK letters probably passed by each other on the road, for
I wrote to you on Tuesday, and have this instant received
one from you, which I answer directly, to beg pardon for
Letter 1665 — i Thomas Weston (1737-1776), comedian.
1775] To the Bev. William Cole 295
my incivility, nay, ingratitude, in not thanking you for your
present of a whole branch of most reputable ancestors, the
Derehaughs — why, the Berehaughs alone would make gentle-
men of half the modern peers, English or Irish. I doubt
my journey to France was got into my head, and left no
room for an additional quarter — but I have given it to
Edmondson, and ordered him to take care that I am born
again from the Derehaughs. This Edmondson has got
a ridiculous notion into his head that another, and much
ancienter of my progenitors. Sir Henry Walpole, married
his wife Isabella Fitz-Osbert, when she was widow to Sir
Walter Jemegan ; whereas all the Old Testament says
Sir Walter married Sir Henry's widow ^ Pray send me
your authority to confound this gainsayer, if you know any-
thing particular of the matter.
I had not heard of the painting you tell me of. As those
boobies, the Society of Antiquaries, have gotten hold of it,
I wonder their pieti/ did not make them bury it again, as
they did the clothes of Edward I. I have some notion that
in Vertue's MSS. or somewhere else, I don't know where,
I have read of some ancient painting at the Eose Tavern.
This I wiU tell you — but Mr. Gough is such a bear, that
I shall not satisfy him about it. That Society, when they
are puzzled, have recourse to me ; and that would be so
often, that I shall not encourage them. They may blunder
as much as they please, from their heavy President ' down
to the pert Governor Pownall, who accounts for everything
immediately, before the Creation, or since. Say only to
Mr. Gough, that I said I had not leisure now to examine
Vertue's MSS. If I find anything there, i/ou shall know,
but I have no longer any eagerness to communicate what
I discover. When there was so little taste for MSS. which
LxTTEB 1666. — • This was the case.
2 Dean Milles.
296 To Br. Percy [i775
Mr. Gray thought worth transcribing, and which were so
valuable, would one offer more pearls ?
Boydel brought me this morning another number of the
prints from the pictures at Houghton. Two or three in
particular are most admirably executed— but alas! it will
be twenty years before the set is completed. That is too
long to look forward at any age — and at mine ! — nay, people
will be tired in a quarter of the time. Boydel, who knows
this country, and still more this town, thinks so too.
Perhaps there will be newer, or at least more fashionable
ways of engraving, and the old will be despised — or, which
is still more likely, nobody will be able to afford the expense.
Who would lay a plan for anything in an overgrown
metropolis hurrying to its fall?
I will return you Mr. Gough's letter when I get a frank.
Adieu !
leer. To De. Peecy.
Deo. 14, 1775.
Me. Walpole is extremely sorry he was out twice when
Dr. Percy gave himself the trouble of calling, and will have
the honour of waiting on Dr. Percy next Tuesday at
one o'clock if he will give leave. In the meantime
Mr. Walpole (who is going out of town for two days)
is very happy to oblige the Doctor and consequently the
public, with the use of Sir T. Wyat's Speeches : and will be
as ready to lend the drawings of Lord Surrey and Sir Thomas,
if the Doctor intends to give prints of them.
Letter 1667. — Not in C. ; now first printed from original in British
Museum.
1775] To Sir Horace Mann 297
1668. To SiE HoEACE Mann.
strawberry Hill, Dec. 17, 1775.
I AM afraid the Pope will be shocked : matters go very ill
with his friend the Duchess of Kingston. She pretended to
tease the House of Lords for her trial, though privately-
soliciting against it. Lord Mansfield entered the lists as her
knight ; and contended for a private hearing in the chamber
of Parliament ; and treated the affair very lightly. This
revolted the Chancellor ' ; and he drew her faiUngs in very
ungentle colours. A committee was appointed to examine
precedents. Her Grace was alarmed ; went to St. James's
Chapel at eight in the morning ; and was delivered of
a scream that roused all the palace. The obdurate Lords'
committees proceeded. The tide was turned ; and every-
body spoke all they knew : collusion between the Duchess
and Lord Bristol, to impose on the Ecclesiastical Court ;
money taken by the Earl ; perjury on both sides ; the
register of their marriage torn out, which is felony ! a new
certificate said to be forged : in short, nothing but a trial in
Westminster Hall could satisfy justice and the public.
Screams now ripened to madness ; and the Duchess begged
a respite for two months. That was pretty long. Her
physicians were sent for. Three appeared : and, though
they would not, as she desired, say that she would be mad
for two months, they did allow that she is troubled with
a great alienation of mind: in proof of which she has
written to the King, to remind him of his grandfather's and
his own goodness to her ; hoping he would not abandon her
in her distress ; and begging a noli prosequi ; which his
Majesty will not grant her. The committee went on ; and
have decided that she shall be tried in Westminster Hall :
Letter 1668. — 1 Lord Bathurst.
298 To Sir Horace Mann [i775
and Lord Lyttelton, as bashful as herself, said that, as she
could not pretend to chastity or modesty, there was no room
for compassion. This hopeful young man, who, on being
refused a place, spoke for the Americans ; and, in two days,
on getting one, against them, being reproached with such
precipitate changes, said that, with his fortune, nobody
could suppose he thought of the value of the salary.
What this heroic lady will attempt next is very un-
known. If she decamps, outlawry and forfeitures foUow.
Laudanum she had recourse to formerly on an emergency.
If she adheres to frenzy she must retire to a mad-house.
If she braves her fate, I shall not wonder if she escapes.
A fair one, more artful, but not of so high rank, nor
patronized by a Chief Justice, has just foiled the law ;
though nobody questions her guilt. This is a Mrs. Mar-
garet Caroline Kudd ; whose history would make as large
a volume as Madame de Kingston's. She sent her lawyer
a brief of which he could not make head or taU. He went
to her for one more clear : ' And do you imagine,' said she,
'that I will trust you, or any attorney in England, with
the truth of my story ? Take your brief ; meet me in the
Old Bailey, and I will ask you the necessary questions. "^
At her trial, she did write sixty notes to him, and with
such artful interrogatories, that she was acquitted ; and the
whole court shouted with applause. I must tell you one
more anecdote of Mrs. Eudd. Preparatory to her trial, she
sent for some brocaded silks to a mercer; she pitched on
a rich one, and ordered him to cut off the proper quantity ;
but the mercer, reflecting that if she was hanged, as was
probable, he should never be paid, pretended he had no
scissors ; but would carry home the piece, cut off what she
wanted, and send it to Newgate. She saw his apprehen-
sion ; pulled out her pocket-book ; and giving him a bank-
note of twenty pounds, said, 'There is a pair of scissors.'
1776] To Sir Horace Mann 299
Such quickness is worth an hundred screams. We have
no Joans of Arc, nor Catharines de' Medici; but this age
has heroines after its own fashion: ay, and heroes too.
Arts and sciences have not only travelled west, but north, too.
Prodigious crimes can flourish in the most rigorous
climates. Except poisoning the last Pope, Eome itself,
the soil of Neros and Borgias, has not produced a murder
worth sixpence these two hundred years. Atrocious genius
is got to Berlin and Petersburg. In two or three cen-
turies, I suppose, there will be some horrible metropolis
beyond the Atlantic, or under the South Pole : and, as the
press disperses useful precedents, two or three kings and
queens will find it suits their convenience to divide some
territory, to which they have no title, near the Straits of
Magellan.
Arlington Street, 18th, Monday night.
The first thing I heard to-day on coming to town made
me think of writing another letter ; yet as this is written,
and may divert you after some days when your mind is
resettled, I let it go, but haste to tell you that what by
your letter to-day you seemed to expect, is arrived : your
brother ' died on Saturday. I sent instantly to Mr. Croft to
know the purport of the will. He sent me word it is in
his hands ; that he understands he and Mr. Poote are
executors, and that he is to carry it to Linton on Thursday.
This will be a century to my impatience. It is what
occupies me. I don't act the farce of condolence — you had
not seen this brother these forty years ; he had little affec-
tion for you, and was not so amiable as to make tender and
lasting impressions forty years ago. I am even glad you
are prepared to expect unkindness, though I should be
outrageous if he could or has done you any hurt, I hope
you have kept his letter that you mention. If he has
'' Edward Ijonisa Mann.
300 To Thomas Astle [l775
attempted anything wrong, I do not believe it will be at
all in favour of your nephew, but for his natural children,
though he had enough of his own to leave to them. I even
hope that his vaunts were only to alarm your nephew and
make him more economic. Yet if it hung by a point of
honour, you will not wonder if I trust not to that, who
found how little equity there was in a point of honour when
my father died. However, you and your nephew must
certainly defend your rights ; and as you are both absent,
pray commission me to retain counsel for you both, or do
anything else in my power : you cannot have a more
zealous advocate. I have been so engrossed by this idea of
injustice to you, that I have yet said nothing of what you
may be sure sits next to it at my heart, the assurance that
this event will at last bring you over, and that we shall
meet again ! I flatter myself this thought delights you as
much as it does me. I own it was the moment I always
looked to. It was my comfort against the melancholy idea
of our never meeting again. You must now come to your
country — and, I trust, to your estate.
1669. To Thomas Astle.
SiK, Dec. 19, 1775.
I am much obliged to you, and return you my thanks
for the paper you have sent me. You have added a ques-
tion to it, which, if I understand it, you yourself, Sir, are
more capable than anybody of answering. You say, ' Is it
possible that this instrument was framed by Eichard Duke
of Gloucester ?' If by framed you mean drawn up, I should
think Princes of the blood, in that barbarous age, were not
very expert in drawing Acts of Attainder, though a branch
of the law more in use then than since. But as I suppose
you mean forged, you. Sir, so conversant in writings of that
age, can judge better than any man — you may only mean
1775] To Thomas Astle 301
forged hy his order. Your reading, much deeper than mine,
may furnish you with precedents oi forged Acts ofAttamder ;
I never heard of one ; nor does my simple understanding
suggest the use of such a forgery, on cases immediately
pressing ; because an Act of Attainder being a matter of
public notoriety, it would be revolting the common sense
of all mankind to plead such an one, if it had not really
existed. If it could be carried into execution by force, the
force would avail without the forgery, and would be at once
exaggerated and weakened by it. I cannot, therefore, con-
ceive why Eichard should make use of so absurd a trick,
unless that having so little to do in so short and turbulent
a reign, he amused himself with treasuring up in the Tower
a forged Act for the satisfaction of those who, three hundred
years afterwards, should be glad of discovering new flaws
in his character. As there are men so bigoted to old
legends, I am persuaded, Sir, that you would please them
by communicating your question to them. They would
rejoice to suppose that Eichard was more criminal than
even the Lancastrian historians represent him. ; and just at
this moment I don't know whether they would not believe
that Mrs. Eudd assisted him. I, who am, probably, as
absurd a bigot on the other side, see nothing in the paper
you have sent me, but a confirmation of Eichard's inno-
cence of the death of Clarence. As the Duke of Bucking-
ham was appointed to superintend the execution, it is
incredible that he should have been drowned in a butt of
malmsey, and that Eichard should have been the exe-
cutioner. When a seneschal of England, or, as we call it,
a Lord High Steward, is appointed for a trial, at least for
execution, with all his oflScers, it looks very much as if,
even in that age, proceedings were carried on with a little
more formality than the careless writers of that time let us
think. The appointment, too, of the Duke of Buckingham
302 To the Countess of Upper Ossory [i775
for that office seems to add another improbability (and
a work of supererogation) to Eichard's forging the instru-
ment. Did Eichard really do nothing but what tended to
increase his unpopularity by glutting mankind with lies,
forgeries, and absurdities, which every man living could
detect ?
I take this opportunity, Sir, of telling you how sorry
I am not to have seen you so long, and how glad I shall be
to renew our acquaintance, especially if you like to talk
over this old story with me, though I own it is of little
importance, and pretty well exhausted. I am. Sir, with
great regard,
Your obliged humble servant ^.
1670. To THE Countess of Uppee Ossoey.
Dec. 20, 1775.
I COULD not write sooner, Madam, for though I certainly
have as little real business as any Christian in England, so
it happens that nobody is more employed. On Monday and
Tuesday I wrote eight letters, and one of them was of seven
pages ; but it was a letter that I hope will save me a vast
LEtTEE 1669. — ^ Tlie following could he pretend that Act was not
queries were appended hy Walpole known when he declared him his
to a copy of this letter sent by him heir ? Would not so recent an Act
to Cole : — being unknown have proved it a
' If there was no such Parliament forgery ? And if there had been no
held, would Eichard have dared to such Parliament as that which forged
forge an Act for it ? it, would not that have proved it a
•Would Henry VU never have double forgery ? The Act, therefore,
reproached him with so absurd a and the Parliament that passed it,
forgery ? must have been genuine, and existed,
' Did neither Sir T. More nor Lord though no other record appears. The
Bacon ever hear of that forgery? distractions of the times, the evident
' As Eichard declared his nephew insufficiency or partiality of the his-
the Earl of Warwick his successor, torians of that age, and the interest
would he have done so if he had of Henry VII to destroy all records
forged an Act of Attainder of War- that gave authority to the house of
wick's father ? York and their title, account for our
'If it is supposed he forged the wanting evidence of that Parlia-
Aot, when he set aside Warwick, ment.'
1775] To the Countess of Upper Ossory 303
many. Sir Horace Mann's elder brother is dead, the
estate comes to him, and I flatter myself that a regular
correspondence of thirty-four years wUl cease, and that
I shall see him again before we meet in the Elysian
fields. Antiquaries write to me too. I hoped I had done
with them, but they are still harping on my daughter, — the
old story, Bichard the Third. I laugh at them as civilly as
I can, yet they return to the charge. Then I am mighty
busy about Mariette's sale, where I have been so lucky as
to ruin myself. I have got Madame d'Olonne ; Madame du
Deffand says I have paid dearer for her than any of her
lovers did in her lifetime. Item : a little bust of Nic.
Poussin's wife by him in terra cotta, and a book of portraits
in the reigns of Francis I and Henry II, that belonged to
BrantSme, who has written the names ; and among them
is Diane de Valentinois. It is droU that even Madame
d'Olonne is en Diane. A few days before the sale the
King of France offered 300,000 livres for the whole col-
lection : it was refused, and has not produced so much,
though my correspondent, the auctioneer, says everything
sold for three times what it was worth. You may imagine.
Madam, I shall be in a fine taking till my old concubines
arrive.
You ask me what I think of the Earl of F and the
Irish baroness ? I answer, nothing ; for I don't know who
they are, unless they are Lord Farnham and Lady Cler-
mont'; and then I shaU ask why they have stayed fifty
years before they thought of one another ? For the other
Irish baroness. Lady Luxborough, she had a mishap with
Parson Dalton, the reviver of Comus, and retired to a
hermitage on Parnassus, as she says herself. The seraphic
Letter 1670. — ' Frances (d. 1820), afterwards first Baron and Earl of
daughter of Colonel John Murray; Clermont,
m. (1752) William Henry Fortesoue,
304 To the Countess of Upper Ossory [i775
Duchess^, her friend, was suspected to have chassi sur les
memes terres, and so it is no wonder they were intimate as
they agreed in eodem tertio.
You ask me another question that I wish I could answer
to my own satisfaction, and as gratefully as your Ladyship's
goodness deserves : why I should not come to Ampthill this
Christmas? I might plead, if I wished only for a decent
excuse, that I have promised, if I go anywhere, to go to
Park Place ; or that Mr. Mann's death detains me, for he
held our place ' for Sir Edward * and me, and there is much
to settle. But, alas ! there is a worse reason : I am not
young enough to fly about in dark cold days, and have an
inward foe, whom I dare not provoke and rouse ; and who,
if in one of his moods, would make me as tiresome to my
hosts as to myself. In one's latter days one must take
care not to give one's friends anything but one's best
; moments, and yet, I don't know but with all my prudent
maxims, I may venture to come to you for a day or two.
I have a vast mind, and a colt's tooth I see the discreetest
of us never sheds. Don't expect me ; but Lord knows what
may happen !
The newspapers, as soon as I could have done, told you
what a fib the Gazette told about Canada on Saturday night.
Faces, that are generally pretty round, lengthened to their
shoe-strings on Sunday. On Monday evening the Cabinet
determined to — seem to recover their spirits, and so though
they believed every tittle of the intelligence, they pretend
not to believe a word of it. Lady Mary Coke, who is in no
secrets, declaimed on the misfortune at Princess Amelie's,
and said how dreadful it was for people to fall into the
hands of people who tear people's eyes out ! I smiled : she
^ Frances Thynne, Duchess of Somerset. Dalton acted as tutor to
her son.
' In the Custom House. * Sir Edward Walpole,
1775] To the JRev. William Mason 305
grew more incensed, and said she was sure I was glad.
I said I was comforted, as I heard they put people's eyes
in again ; at least, I concluded so, as nobody has returned
without his eyes. In good truth, I think we are pulling
out our own eyes, and nobody seems to have a nostrum for
putting them in again.
The Duchess cannot be tried till February, for it is recol-
lected that Westminster Hall is a common into which all
sorts of cattle must be admitted in term time. Lady Lux-
borough has exhausted all artful conclusions of letters, so
I will never more be your Ladyship's most devoted.
P.S. They say Mrs. Kudd has been at the play in Lord
Lyttelton's chariot. If the Duchess is acquitted, I suppose
he will take her into keeping too, to show he is convinced
of her virtue also, and wronged her innocence.
1671. To THE Eev. William Mason.
Arlington Street, Dec. 21, 1775.
I SHALL make the impression of the seal to this letter as
perfect as I can ; yet probably it wUl ill answer your purpose ',
for it is only one of Wedgwood's antiques, and they are not
very sharp ; you exercise, I find, all your various talents,
but the one I love the best m you. I should not say so
much to everybody : a thousand pictures give me pleasure
for one poem.
Foote and you agree in convicting the Duchess of ebriety,
and you both prove it equally well in difierent ways. Nay,
she seems to allow it herself, for she abandons insanity ;
Letter 1671. — ' 'I wish in your my book presses, and I have sue-
next favour . . . you would be pleased ceeded so tolerably that I think it
to seal with a very clear Impression will do when finished from a better
of your antique sacrifice, for I have original.' (Mason to Walpole, Deo, 16,
been painting from a very bad one 1775.)
a figure in chiaro oscuro for one of
WALPOLK. IX X
306 To the Eev. William Mason [i775
intends, I hear, to rest her safety on pleading guilty, lest
standing on her spotless innocence should drag to light too
many crimes. Lord Mansfield has added one more to his
own list ; his shameless protection of her.
I never heard of the imperial title you mention''', nor
believe it, indeed I know of no treaty. That foreign troops
have been treated for is certain ; if any are obtained, I am
not in the secret. In the meantime the empire is shrunk
to as narrow limits as that of the Holy Eoman Empire ;
which when it had nothing left but one eagle made it into
two, by splitting it, as cooks serve a pigeon. By this time
Canada probably is no part of the imperial dominions;
unless Lord Dunmore has transported it on board his own
government and ship', where he pretends to have imprisoned
one of the provincial deputies, who to-day's papers say never
existed — unless by your hypothesis of alphabetic identity,
one man may become another. That many men do become
other men, I see every day, and so entirely other men, that
they retain none of the blushing shame of their original
nymphood, when they become butterflies.
1 felt Mr. Cumberland's folly so much, that his imperti-
nence was lost on me. He has written an Ode, as he
modestly calls it, in praise of Gray's Odes ; charitably no
doubt to make the latter taken notice of. Garrick read it
the other night at Mr. Beauclerk's, who comprehended so
little what it was about, that he desired Garrick to read it
backwards, and try if it would not be equally good ; he did,
and it was. I came in just afterwards ; and the conversation
continuing, Garrick said, with all the candour he could affect,
'I wonder at it, but people cry down Mr. Mason's Life of
2 That of 'sovereign of the grand ' The man-of-war Powey, to which
American empire.' Mason had been Lord Dunmore withdrew in Jnne
told that George III had so styled 1776, in conseqnence of the riots and
himself in a treaty for obtaining disaffection in Virginia, where he
foreign troops to be employed in the was Governor.
American war.
1776] To the Bev. William Mason 307
Gray extremely; I really think it very ingenious.' I made
him no more answer than he deserved. I broke through
this rule two days ago on a new impertinence to myself.
In the Paper Office there is a wight, called Thomas Astle,
who lives like moths on old parchments. It was he who
lent me the Coronation EoU, and to whom I communicated
my book on JRichard III, to every tittle of which he agreed.
Some of the moths his commensales remonstrated to him
I suppose, that he had fouled his own chrysalis by helping
to unravel an intricate web. From that time I never saw
him ; on Monday he sent me a printed copy of the Act of
Attainder of George, Duke of Clarence (which corroborates
remarkably one of my arguments), but which he not per-
ceiving, very impertinently added a quaere, which implied
I had been in the wrong. The quaere itself was so absurd
that I could not deny myself the pleasure of laughing at
him and his council. I send you a copy of my letter* as
the shortest way of explaining what I have told you, and
because I conclude the foolish Society of Antiquaries will
be convinced he had guessed happily, and that we shall
have a new dissertation against me in the next volume
of the old women's logic, as I call the Archceologia. I have
reserved two or three more arguments, with which they
shall be treated if they do attack me again, but with which
I would not trust Astle, lest any one of the body should
have sense enough to see their folly and stop them. You
must excuse me, but some time or other I am determined
to publish all my answers. I am offended for the honour
of Eichard's understanding, that all they charge him with
tends to represent him as a drivelling fool, though indeed
such are their understandings that they mean to prove he
was an able knave.
* The letter to Astle already printed.
X 2
308 To John Bobinson [1775
Fools! yes, I think all the world is turned fool, or was
born so ; cette tete a perruque, that wig-block the Chancellor,
what do you think he has done? Burnt all his father's"
correspondence with Pope, Swift, Arbuthnot, &c. — why do
you think? because several of the letters were indiscreet.
To be sure he thought they would go and publish them-
selves, if not burnt, but indeed I suspect the indiscretion
was that there were some truths which it was not proper
to preserve, considering considerandis. That is just what
I should like to have seen. There was otherwise so much
discretion, and so little of anything else except hypocrisy
in all the letters of those men that have appeared, that
I should not so much regret what discreet folly has now
burnt. Apropos, did I ever tell you a most admirable hon
mot of Mr. Bentley? He was talking to me of an old devout
Lady St. John, who burnt a whole trunk of letters of the
famous Lord Eochester, 'for which,' said Mr. Bentley, 'her
soul is now burning in heaven '.' The oddness, confusion,
and wit of the idea struck me of aU things. I wish you
good night.
1672. To John Eobinson^.
SiK,
I have but this minute received the honour of your
most obliging letter, and do not lose a minute in answer-
ing it '.
It is impossible to be more sensible than I am of Lord
» Allen, first Earl Bathurst. The from Lord Orford'a Worka (1798),
letters from Pope were not destroyed. vol. ii. pp. 384-5.
' Lord Bocheeter's mother is prob- 1 Secretary to the Treasury,
ably the person referred to — Anne, 2 Robinson's letter was written in
daughter of Sir John St. John, first consequence of representations from
Baronet ; m. (1) Sir Henry Lee, the Commissioners of Cnstoms, who
second Baronet, of Ditohley; (2) were embarrassed by the absence
Henry Wilmot, Baron Wilmot, after- from England of Sir Horace Mann,
wards first Earl of Boohester. the successor of Edward Mann as
Letti;e1672. — NotinC. ; reprinted Deputy Collector of Onstoms Inwards.
1775] To John Robinson 309
North's goodness, and I must beg you, Sir, to express my
gratitude to his Lordship, as I shall have the honour of
doing in person. His Lordship's condescension to me is
as flattering as unmerited ; and the only way I can at all
pretend to deserve it is by doing what I ought ; that is,
as far as the case regards myself, prefer the public service
to myself, and submit myself in the care of that interest
to his Lordship's wisdom: at the same time having so
just a sense of the duty of gratitude, that I think myself
equally obliged by a kind offer, whether accepted or
declined.
The Collectorship of the Customs is an office of such
importance, that my family or I, who have received such
favours from the government, ought to be the first to take
care that the public suffers no detriment in an office in
which we are concerned. I, it is true, have a great, though
a temporary, interest in that office, but it is my brother,
Sir Edward, in whom it is vested for his life ; and therefore
I flatter myself that both Lord North and you. Sir, wiU
consider my answer as only regarding myself; for though
I am persuaded that my brother has the public service full
as much at heart as I have, I must not take upon me to
answer for him about an office that virtually and ultimately
rests in him. For myself I am persuaded that I cannot
serve the public more essentially than by waiving my own
interest entirely, and referring the whole disposition of the
present difficulty to Lord North's discretion, and submitting
myself entirely to what he shall direct. The situation of
the office by the absence of Sir Horace Mann is certainly
extremely momentous, and ought not to remain precarious ;
therefore, I beg very respectfully and gratefully too, that
I may not be considered for an instant, but that his Lord-
ship will give orders for the security of the office in whatever
manner he thinks fit, till Sir Horace can come over and
310 To Sir Horace Mann [i775
accept it; and whatever his Lordship shall determine will
be cheerfully acquiesced in by,
Sir,
His Lordship's and your most grateful
And most obedient humble servant,
Arlington Street, Dec. 25, 1775. HoEACE Walpole.
POSTSCKIPT.
SiK,
I was so convinced that my brother Sir Edward prefers
the service of the public to his own interest, at least as
much as I do, that I deferred sending my immediate answer
tUl I had communicated it to my brother; and he authorizes
me to say that he submits himself entirely to Lord North's
arbitration for the safety of the office till Sir Horace Mann
can be admitted to it according to the intention of the
patent.
1673. To Sir Hoeace Mann.
Arlington Street, Dec. 26, 1775.
It was very vexatious to be delivered from my own
anxiety about you on Saturday last, and not to be able to
remove your suspense till Tuesday. I hope, however, that
the conclusion of my last week's letter diminished your
apprehensions of being wronged. I now confirm you in,
and invest you with, your own estate. If your good-
natured mind chooses to thank your brother for it, you
may— for my part I don't believe a word of his having had
power to deprive you of it — unless by some dishonourable
flaw, which a generous mind would not think gives power.
If he has done you justice, there is not a grain of benevolence
thrown into the scale; for having (1 don't know what he
calls) laid out six thousand poimds on the estate, he leaves
you charged with two hundred and sixty pounds annuity in
1775] To Sir Horace Mann 311
lieu of it. When one makes use of such a fraction of power,
I do not much believe in the greatness of mind that resisted
a greater temptation. Well, Linton is yours, and you are
now your own master ; I say nothing of particulars ; there
are few, and Mr. Croft' tells you them. Your nephew
Sir Horace is not named in the will ; the daughter was the
object, and during her mother's life will have more than
her brother. Croft thinks they will have 35,0002. apiece ;
I should think more. He calls your estate 1,5002. a year;
I hope it is more ; at least by an old rent roll made thirty
years ago, it was then 1,2002. a year, and probably has risen
or been increased above a fourth since that.
If you have been impatient for this letter, how anxious
must I be too for your answer to my last ! But you cannot
hesitate to take possession of your estate, to see your country
again after an absence of forty years, to see a sister you love,
and friends I think you love too. Why do I doubt? I
will not — I wUl flatter myself that you will fix here. Such
long, faithful, and laborious services as yours cannot remain
unrewarded. Sir James Porter^, not so ancient a servant
as you, has a pension of 1,0002. a year. Lord Sandwich and
Mr. Mackenzie have always been your protectors; and if
you have not made many other friends, never were amiable
qualities so thrown away for forty years together — but what
the deuce am I doing ! Why do I doubt your coming ?
Since I wrote last, public affairs are grown much more
serious, and unpromising of any good issue. General
Carleton has been beaten by the provincials % St. John's
has surrendered to them, Quebec has probably * fallen into
their hands, with the whole province of Canada. You may
Lkttek 1673. — 1 The solicitor em- an attempt to relieve St. John's,
ployed. Walpole. which capitulated on Nov. 3, 1776.
2 Who had teen minister at Con- * The Americans laid siege to
stantinople. Walpole. Quebec in December, but it was not
' General Carleton had faUed in taken by them.
312 To Sir Horace Mann [1775
call your neighbour the Pope an ungrateful old whore, for
the Canadians joined the provincials. All this is certain ;
the rest seems to be credited ; that our ships are destrojdng
all the towns on the coast. This is horrible ! and that the
King's army could not stay in Boston, but was meditating
retreat to Halifax. I don't at all warrant the last article of
the bill of fare ; but I may well say I see no prospect of
good. Seeds of the last inveteracy sown ! a whole continent
to be reconquered ! What lives, what money to be squan-
dered ! What damages, what breaches to be repaired ! And
reconciliation, how to be effected ? by victories on our side,
or on theirs? France is straining every nerve to repair
their losses ; we, every one to weaken ourselves ; and weak
we are to such a degree, that I hope France does not know
it. Come and see us before it is worse.
The King referred to the Attorney-General the Duchess of
Kingston's petition for a noli prosequi, and it was argued at
the chambers of the Attorney. How many counsel do you
think she had retained for that single preliminary ? — a mob
— only fourteen. She must be in a mortal panic ; and the
noli prosequi will not be granted. She has resumed her
senses. The trial is fixed for the end of February. Madam
of Babylon ° and her Canadians are not in good odour ; nay,
I should not wonder if, like Jane Shore's friend Mrs.
Blagrave, the old harlot should appropriate the entrusted
jewels to her own use, when the Duchess is standing in
a white sheet.
My last letter was so voluminous that it must compensate
for this. How I long to have our correspondence finish !
Your next, I conclude, will mention the passage of the Duke
and Duchess " through Florence. Adieu !
^ The Pope, in whose custody the Duchess of Kingston was said to have
left her valuable effects at Bome. Waljpole.
^ Of Gloucester, Wal^iole.
1775] To the Countess of Upper Ossory 313
1674. To THE Countess of Uppee Ossobt.
Deo. 27, 1775.
Fresh, very fresh news ! General Carleton is not come,
but G-eneral Burgoyne is, though not yet landed in town.
He is to bring very good accounts from Boston ; but as he'
does not yet know what till he is told by those he is to tell,
and as I am too scrupulous to send any news before it is
born, you will excuse my mentioning the particulars.
We believe Quebec is perfectly safe, though we know to
the contrary. Adam Smith told us t'other night at Beau-
clerk's, that Major Preston, one of two, but he is not sure
which, would have been an excellent commander some
years hence if he had seen any service. I said it was pity
the war had not been put off till the Major should be some
years older.
Lord Granby was married last night. He is selling an
estate of 3,000Z. a year that came to him by his mother ',
to pay his father's debts. I am afraid he will never sell
himself.
Here are some verses of Soame Jenyns, that, in our
present want of comfort, we admire very much, for we are
out of spirits, and so was the poet, too, when he wrote the
last stanza, which is insufferably bad. Pray return the piece,
for I have no copy, and my amanuensis is in the country.
There are some better verses " by Dean Barnard ', of which
1 will procure a copy if I can. They are an answer to a
gross brutality of Dr. Johnson, to which a properer answer
would have been to fling a glass of wine in his face. I have \^
ZjKttee 1674. — ^ His mother was Hill's edition of Boswell's Life of
a daughter of the ' proud ' Dnke of Johnaon, vol. iv. pp. 431-3, App. A.
Somerset, and his father the popular ' Thomas Barnard, D.D. (1728-
Marquis of Granby. 1806), Dean of Derry, 1769-80 ;
2 The verses do not appear. They Bishop of Killaloe, 1780-94 ; Bishop
are to be found in Dr. Birkbeok of Limerick, 1794-1806.
314 To the Countess of Upper Ossory [i775
no patience with an unfortunate monster trusting to his
helpless deformity for indemnity for any impertinence that
his arrogance suggests, and who thinks that what he has
read is an excuse for everything he says.
I told you, Madam, I might be busy if I would. I am so
whether I will or not. The absence of Sir Horace Mann
has embarrassed me, as he is not here to be admitted to the
place which his brother held by patent for my brother and
me. It involves me with the Treasury, but as I am the
most respectful and cheapest person they can deal with,
I have submitted everything to them, and only begged they
will give me nothing for my pains,— which will content me
at least. I shall go to Strawberry to-morrow, unless I hear
their pleasure ; and have told Mr. Fitzpatrick that I think
of meeting him next week at Ampthill; but I don't tell
your Ladyship so, for indeed I know nothing of the
matter.
Just at present I suppose I am the vainest creature in the
universe. Lady Di has drawn three scenes of my tragedy,
which if the subject were a quarter as good as the drawings,
would make me a greater genius than Shakespeare, as she
is superior to Guide and Salvator Kosa. Such figures ! such
dignity ! such simplicity ! Then there is a cedar hanging
over the castle, that is more romantic than when it grew on
Lebanon !
Oh, if Lord Ossory has a farthing in the world to spare,
he may buy a Madonna and Child, by Vandyke, at Christie's,
for four thousand guineas, for which I would not give four
hundred if I were as rich as General Scott. It is a fine
picture, and yet I believe Vandyke was the father no more
than Joseph.
1775] To Sir Horace Mann 315
1675. To SiE HoEACE Mann.
You must come to your friends; you cannot care for
foolish Florentines, and weary you must be of travelling
boys and their hoggish governors. Your sister Mrs. Foote
is most amiable ; Mr. Foote is good and reasonable ; you
like your nephew and Lady Lucy — here are relations and
family for you, and 1 will think you wish to see me.
The journey (not till winter is gone) will do you good ;
and if the climate should not equal that of Italy, you
can but return. Come you must ; it is impossible you
should hesitate.
I shall go to Mr. Croft to-morrow, and if it is possible
get him to send me an account of the vdll on Thursday,
that I may receive it on Friday in time to write to you that
night ; though perhaps it may not be opened early enough
on Thursday for him to save the post. If you do not hear
from me till by Tuesday's post, you will conclude it was
out of my power ; and you must bear this suspense as
calmly as you can. I would not have written under so
much uncertainty, if your brother's death had not already
appeared in the papers ; and I would not fail to tell you as
early as anybody.
I began my letter with trifling news, and have suffered
you to read three pages of it, though an event of such
importance awaited you. I will finish with pubhc news
more serious than the adventures of the Duchess-Countess.
The ministers received an account last night from
Governor Tryon, that the provincials under Montgomery
liBTTBH 1675. — Not in C. ; now first * The following was part of the fore-
printed from transcript in possession going [the letter to Mann of Dec. 26,
of Earl Waldegrave. At the begin- 1775], but may be reckoned a new
ning of the letter is the following letter, though by mistake I had
note in Horace Walpole's writing : — thought a first part wanting.'
316 To Sir Horace Mann [i775
had entirely defeated General Carleton, cut to pieces all
his Highlanders, and some say have taken the General
himself' , Montgomery then summoned the commander
of St. John's to surrender that place, as it would be in
vain to hold out. The commander believed him and gave
it up. It is supposed that Montreal and Quebec will soon
follow. This is a great blow and will not be compensated
by Lord Dunmore's having seized one of the deputies of
the Congress, taken some old privateer cannon, and put
to flight 200 provincials, he having but eighty men. How-
ever, a body of people, calling themselves Eegulators, in
Carolina, who are at war with the provincial governments,
have promised assistance, if any of the King's forces make
a descent. This I believe is a great motive to an armament
going hence in two or three days to Virginia under Lord
CornwalUs. I, who am no very good judge, have always
thought the American war would be of long duration ; and
if 200 have run away, the army besieging Boston and the
body under Montgomery (an Irishman) have shown some
spirit. A new bill now passing for destroying their ships
will add new fuel to their rage ; and the commissioners
for treating of peace, who are stUl talked of, will not find
their minds in good temper, when provoked on one hand,
and victorious on the other. How happy for us, that other
countries allow us to prosecute our own quarrels at our
ease
I revert to you and your affairs, my dear Sir ; they
are uppermost in my thoughts — yet there is so much
selfishness in them, that I have but half merit in being
impatient to send you the best news. I never named it
to you, because it was not right or decent, but your brother
was never very ill, without my indulging a secret hope
of seeing you again. It is one in the morning, and I
1 That part did not prove true. Walpole.
1775] To Sir Horace Mam 317
must go to bed, but I shall certainly dream you are
come.
Tuesday, 3 o'clock.
I have been with Mr. Croft, and he has given me great
satisfaction, though the will will not be opened tiU Friday
morning, as your sister has summoned your nieces and
their husbands to be present. I hinted darkly at your
late brother having had some notion of the estate being
in his power — 'Oh, Sir,' said Mr. Croft, 'Mr. Mann was
a prodigious honest man, and would not do anything
wrong: he told me he could cut off the entail, but he
would not, as it seemed to be his father's intention that
it should go according to the entail ' — to be sure he did ;
but I said nothing : I saw Mr. Croft did not understand
the case, and I did not want to furnish an executor with
any ill-founded difficulty. I begged he would write me
a line as soon as he could — 'Sir,' said he again, ' I dare to
say Mr. Mann has given everything of his own, except
a few legacies, to his two children ; indeed I advised him
to it, especially to the young lady, who is very deserving.'
' Sir,' replied I, ' I do not desire to know any particulars
but about the estate, which I wish to be certain is to go
to the two Sir Horaces. I have nothing to say against
anything else that Mr. Mann may have thought proper
to give to his children. I have always thought that when
people have brought children into the world, they ought
to make them as happy as they can, especially natural
children, on whom they have heaped disadvantages.' ' You
may depend upon it,' said Mr. Croft, ' that the entail is not
cut off.' — Still I shall not be completely satisfied, my dear
Sir, till I know it is yours vnthout any trouble. You
will smile perhaps at my suspicion, but as the boy is
unhealthy, I conclude Mr. Croft intends to marry the girl
to some relation of his own. This is only between you
318 To the Bev. William Cole [i776
and me ; all the rest you may communicate to your
nephew. Adieu ! my mind is much more at ease than
it was.
1676. To THE Eey. William Cole.
Jan. 26, 1776.
I HAVE deferred answering your last letter, dear Sir,
tiU I cannot answer with my own hand. I made a pil-
grimage at Christmas to Queen's Cross, at Ampthill, was
caught there by the snow, imprisoned there for a fortnight,
and sent home bound hand and foot by the gout. The
pain, I suppose, is quite frozen, for I have had none ;
nothing but inflammation and swelling, and they abate.
In reality, this is owing to the bootikins, which, though
they do not cure the gout, take out its sting. You, who
are still more apt to be an invalid, feel, I fear, this hyper-
borean season ; I should be glad to hear you did not.
I thought I had at once jumped upon a discovery of the
subject of the painted room at the Eose Tavern, but shall
not plume m.yself upon my luck tUl I have seen the
chamber, because Mr. Gough's account seems to date the
style of the painting earlier than will serve my hypothesis.
I had no data to go upon but the site having belonged
to the family of Tufton (for I do not think the description
at all answers to the taking of Francis I, nor is it at aU
credible that there should be arms in the painting, and
yet neither those of France or Austria). I turned im-
mediately to Lord Thanet's pedigree, in CoUins's Peerage,
and found at once an heroic adventure performed by one of
the family ^ that accords remarkably with the principal
circumstance. It is the rescue of the Elector Palatine,
Letter 1676. — ^ Hon. G-eorge wotmds received in the encounter
Tufton, sixth son of second Earl mentioned by Walpole.
of Thanet. He died in 1670 from
1776] To the Eev. William Cole 319
son of our Queen of Bohemia, from an ambuscade laid
for him by the Duke of Lorrain. The arms, or and gules,
I thought were those of Lorrain, which I since find are
argent and gules. The argent indeed may be turned
yellow by age, as Mr. Gough says he does not know whether
the crescent is red or black. But the great impediment is,
that this achievement of a Tufton was performed in the
reign of Charles II. Now in that reign, when we were
become singularly ignorant of chivalry, anachronisms and
blunders might easily be committed by a modern painter,
yet I shall not adhere to my discovery, unless I find the
painting correspond vyith the style of the modern time to
which I would assign it ; nor will I see through the eyes
of my hypothesis, but fairly.
I shall now turn to another subject. Mr. Astle, who has
left me off ever since the fatal era of Eichard III, for no
reason that I can conceive but my having adopted his
discovery, which, for aught I know may be a reason vsdth
an antiquary, lately sent me the attainder of George, Duke
of Clarence, which he has found in the Tower and printed ;
and on it, as rather glad to confute me and himself, than
to have found a curiosity, he had written two or three
queries which tended to accuse Eichard of having forged
the instrument, though to the instrument itself is added
another, which confirms my acquittal of Eichard of the
murder of Clarence — but, alas ! passion is a spying-glass
that does but make the eyes of folly more blind. I sent
him an answer, a copy of which I enclose. Since that,
I have heard no more of him, nor shall, I suppose, till
I see this new proof of Eichard's guilt adopted into the
annals of the Society, against which I have reserved some
other stigmas for it.
Mr. Edmonson has found a confirmation of Isabella
Fitz-Osbert having married Jernegan after Walpole. I
320 To Sir Horace Mann [l776
forget where I found my arms of Fitz-Osbert. Though
they differ from yours of Sir Eoger, the colours are the
same, and they agree with yours of William Fitz-Osborne.
There was no accuracy in spelling names even till much
later ages ; and you know that different branches of the
same family made little variation in their coats.
I am very sorry for the death of poor Henshaw'', of
which I had not heard. I am yours most sincerely,
H. W.
P.S. The queries added to the letter to Mr. Astle were
not sent with it ; and, as I reserve them for a future answer,
I beg you will show them to nobody.
1677, To SiE HoEACE Mann.
Jan. 28, 1776.
1 AM in so much haste now to have our correspondence
end, that I no longer love even to write you a letter.
My impatience to hear that you think of coming over is
extreme — think of it ! — I mean, to hear that you have fixed
the time. Surely you can think of nothing else. Old
Knight, the cashier*, used to come once a year to Calais
to look at the cliffs of England. You are not banished,
as he was, but have been much longer absent. I will
forgive any imprudence of impetuosity to come ; take care
I hear of no coldness. I am almost afraid to frighten you
with an account of our winter ; but then it is such a winter
as I never saw. I was with you at Florence in 1741, and
those ever since have been springs, and sometimes summers.
This was made for the North Pole, has lasted three weeks,
2 A yotmg engraver. son was created Lord Loxborongli,
Letter 1677. — ' Eobert Knight, and afterwards Earl of Catherlogh,
cashier of the South Sea Company and had an only son, who died before
in the memorable year 1720. His him, without issue. Walpole.
1776] To Sir Horace Mann 321
and grows every day worse and worse. It caught me at
Lord Oasory's'', in Bedfordshire, and looked me up there
above a fortnight. At last it gave me the gout in both
hands, on which I set out directly for London through
mountains of snow and quarries of ice. I am still con-
fined, though I have had very little pain ; yet I write
with difficulty, and ill-humour too, for I expected no gout
this year.
By your silence, though you mention them at Eome,
I find their Eoyal Highnesses my nephew and niece did
not pass through Florence, for which I am not sorry.
I have had a letter from the Duchess, who tells me the
Pope has been a perfect knight-errant in courtesy and
gallantry, and enjoined all manner of attentions to them
from his college and nobility. It is not he that sent it to
me, but I have had a red hat given to me to-day — it was
Cardinal Wolsey's'- I am impatient to hear the result
of Lady Orford's audience. I did not imagine she would
ask it, as she was not content with the Duke' when
he was last at Florence : I suppose she is proud of her
nepotism.
The trial of the late Pope's friend, the Duchess of
Kingston, is put off till April.
The government is straining every nerve to muster
a great army in America, though it must combat for its
very landing. Fifteen thousand Hessians and Brunswickers
are retained. This force, if half of it can get thither and
land, must be maintained from hence. We are not apt to
be frugal about our armies abroad. Guess at the millions
this will cost ; and come and see your country before all its
2 AmpthilL Walpole. Albemarle, who gave it to Mr. Wal-
' ' The red hat of Cardinal Wolsey, pole.' (See Description of Strawberry
found in the Great Wardrobe by Bill.)
Bishop Burnet when Clerk of the * The Duke of Gloucester. Wal-
Closet. From his son the judge it pole,
came to the Countess Dowager of
WALPOLE. IX Y
322 To Edward Gibbon [i776
splendour is at an end ! Boston is famishing : what is
the fate of Quebec, we do not yet know. The Parliament
is met, but two-thirds of the members are frozen in the
country. Omiah, the native of Otaheite, breakfasted with
,Mr. Conway to-day, and learns to skate. He had no notion
of ice, and calls it stone-water; a yery good expression.
If he was in Ireland they would advise him to carry over
some in spirits.
Shall you bring over a great many fine things for Linton?
Shall you not regret all you have given to me ? I would
give them up to have you here. Don't you invite me to
Linton ? How long your letter is coming ! Take care to
know me when you see me. Expect me as wrinkled as
Methuselem. Pray don't impute the change to thirty-
five years and a tolerable quantity of gout, but to this hard
winter. I assure you I looked charmingly a month ago.
I have some spirits left still, and I wish I don't behave
like a boy when we meet.
1678. To Edwakd Gibbon \
Me. Walpole cannot express how much he is obliged to
Mr. Gibbon for the valuable present he has received'';
nor how great a comfort it is to him in his present situa-
tion, in which he little expected to receive singular pleasure.
Mr. Walpole does not say this at random, nor from mere
confidence in the author's abilities, for he has already (all
his weakness would permit) read the first chapter, and it
is in the greatest admiration of the style, manner, method,
clearness, and intelligence. Mr. "Walpole's impatience to
proceed will struggle with his disorder, and give him such
liETTEE 1678. — 1 Edward Gibbon of the Decline and Fall of the Soman
(1737-1794), the historian. Empire.
' The first volume of the History
1776] To Edward Gibbon 323
spirits, that he flatters himself he shall owe part of his
recovery to Mr. Gibbon ; whom, as soon as that is a little
effected, he shall beg the honour of seeing.
1679. To THE Eev. "William Mason.
Dear Sir, Arlington street, Feb. 6.
I send you word as soon as I can that I received your
charming letter very safely, but that is all I can do or say ;
and God knows when I shall be able to send you any other
answer, for I am, and have been this week, confined to my
bed with the gout in six or seven different places. As
I never had it before in my leap year, I would suppose
that it is owing now to the late bitter weather, for you see
that even in my condition one can be fool enough to flatter
oneself with some straw to the last. Adieu ! I heartUy
wish you all I want, without envying you what I want.
Yours ever,
H.W.
1680. To Edwaed Gibbon.
Feb. 14, 1776.
After the singular pleasure of reading you. Sir, the next
satisfaction is to declare my admiration. I have read great
part of your volume, and cannot decide to which of its
various merits I give the preference, though I have no
doubt of assigning my partiality to one virtue of the
author, which, seldom as I meet with it, always strikes
me superiorly. Its quality will naturally prevent your
guessing which I mean. It is your amiable modesty.
How can you know so much, judge so well, possess your
subject, and your knowledge, and your power of judicious
reflection so thoroughly, and yet command yourself and
betray no dictatorial arrogance of decision? How unlike
T 2
324 To Edward Gibbon [l776
very ancient and very modern authors ! You have, unex-
pectedly, given the world a classic history. The fame it
must acquire will tend every day to acquit this panegyric
of flattery. The impressions it has made on me are very
numerous. The strongest is the thirst of being better
acquainted with you ; but I reflect that I have been a
trifling author, and am in no light profound enough to
deserve your intimacy, except by confessing your superiority
so frankly, that I assure you honestly I already feel no
envy, though I did for a moment. The best proof I can
give you of my sincerity is to exhort you, warmly and
earnestly, to go on with your noble work: the strongest,
though a presmnptuous mark of my friendship, is to warn
you never to let your charming modesty be corrupted by
the acclamations your talents will receive. The native
qualities of the man should never be sacrificed to those
of the author, however shining. I take this liberty as an
older man, which reminds me how little I dare promise
myself that I shall see your work completed ! But I love
posterity enough to contribute, if I can, to give them
pleasure through you.
I am too weak to say more, though I could talk for hours
on your History. But one feeling I cannot suppress, though
it is a sensation of vanity. I think, nay, I am sure I perceive,
that your sentiments on government agree with my own.
It is the only point on which I suspect myself of any
partiality in my admiration. It is a reflection of a far
inferior vanity that pleases me in your speaking with so
much distinction of that, alas ! wonderful period, in which
the world saw five good monarchs succeed each other.
I have often thought of treating that Elysian era. Happily
it has fallen into better hands !
I have been able to rise to-day for the first time, and
flatter myself that if I have no relapse, you will in two or
1776] To Sir Horace Mann 325
three days more give me leave, Sir, to ask the honour of
seeing you. In the meantime, be just ; and do not suspect j
me of flattering you. You will always hear that I say the :?
same of you to everybody. I am, with the greatest regard, '
Sir, &c,
1681. To Sib Horace Mann.
Arlington Street, Feb. 15, 1776.
You have chilled me so thoroughly by the coldness of
your answer, and by the dislike you express to England,
that I shall certainly press you no more to come. I thought
at least it would have cost you a struggle.
Your late brother, I allow, has used you very ill, and
I dare to say, beyond his power. It is not at all probable
that a tenant for life should have had power to charge the
estate with what he laid out on the mansion house. His
personal estate would be chargeable if he had let it go to
ruin. If he improved it, it was at his own risk. Your
nephew, whom you have prudently and kindly associated
with yourself, will certainly take good advice for you and
himself when he returns. I can say nothing on your
brother Edward's first appanage, of which he has disposed ;
that must depend on the deeds executed by your father,
when he assigned it. For the American estate, this is the
first time I ever heard of it, and cannot judge.
Another part of your letter hurt me too very much. You
say, even your brother Gal never did you any pecuniary
service. Forgive me, but I had heard and believed that he
had increased, at least managed so advantageously what
money of yours he had in his hands, that at his death it
amounted to seventeen thousand pounds, which I confess
seemed to me more than you with your generosity could
have saved out of your appointments. For the indifference
of the rest of your family I heartily condemn it ; but you
326 To Sir Horace Mann [i776
will not wonder that I combat for dear Gal's tenderness ;
and I will still hope that the insensibility of your last
brother had giyen you a moment of humour, that I am sure
did not last.
I must now speak on another subject, on which I have
acted so disinterestedly for myself, and with such perfect
regard for you, that I do not fear your imputing to the
smallest personal concern the warm manner in which
I pressed you to return instantly on your brother's death.
Indeed I had not had time to know that your return would
have been convenient to me : I wrote from my feelings, and
had not another thought but the joy of seeing you once
more — a thought I resign with infinite reluctance ; though,
as you will find by what I am going to say, your personal
appearance is no longer necessary but to the satisfaction of
my friendship.
Your late brother held for me and my brother our place
in the Custom House ; as you succeed to all his rights, the
patent falls to you and is held in your name. The Com-
missioners of the Customs represented against your absence,
and I was desired to give you notice. I peremptorily
refused. I said I had acquainted you with your brother's
death, and had pressed you to come over ; but as I appre-
hended (as you saw) that you might plead your age, the
fatigue of the journey, and change of climate, I was
determined to await your answer, and nothing should
induce me to urge you to come if you did not think it
safe for your health. In the meantime, as the office
could not stand still. Lord North very obligingly offered
me to settle a deputation in any manner I should propose.
That, too, I declined, and submitted the whole disposition
to his Lordship's discretion. In one word, the Treasury
have appointed Mr. Suckling, our cousin and deputy, to
act for you till you come ; which will be as long as you live,
1776] To Sir Horace Mann 327
unless Sir Edward dies first, when the patent expires — so
that now you have no call, nor would your presence be the
least necessary to my interest. I only believe that it will
be necessary to demand your consent to this arrangement ;
and that is all the trouble you will have.
I have kept my bed for a fortnight with the gout in my
limbs, and yesterday was the first of my rising ; but it was
after a sleep of eleven hours, which shows how excellent my
constitution would be, if not harassed by the gout. I bear
that affliction with patience — with patience, which my
reflection has taught me is the desperate substitute to hope,
and which does not delude one with such charming visions !
The Duke of Gloucester did me the honour of notifying to
me the birth of his son \ It was most welcome intelligence,
and saved me a month's anxiety for the Duchess, who
I thought was likely to go a fortnight longer.
We have no news but those of preparations against
America. I can add nothing to what you know I think
on that subject.
Monsieur de Guisnes has been suddenly recalled — it is
said on a successful cabal of his enemies ; which, if so,
bodes his total ruin. As his successor is not appointed,
and there is a great armament at Toulon (though said to
assist the Spaniards against Algiers), the stocks took fright,
and expressed it : I don't know whether with reason ; but
can their panic be extremely premature ? There is talk of
Lord Stormont leaving his embassy for a post in Scotland,
and of Sir Joseph Yorke replacing him at Paris.
Lady Mary Coke has returned some services at Paris, and
many years of great attentions, with singular rudeness to
me, since my return — but she is mad ; and I suppose the
birth of the Prince at Eome will send her to Bedlam''.
Lkttee 1681. — 1 Prince William in 1805.
Frederick (d. 1834) ; he succeeded 2 Lady Mary Coke had hoped to
his father as Duke of Gloucester marry Edward, Duke of York, and
328 To the Bev. William Mason [i776
I think I have heard of the life of a modem visionary
called Marie h la Cogue', who fancied herself married to
Jesus Christ ; it would make a good parallel. Adieu !
The accounts from Kome continue good.
1682. To THE Eev. William Mason.
Feb. 18, 1776.
As my illness prevented my answering your delightful
letter, I do not see why the leisure and solitude of
convalescence should not be employed in replying to it ;
not poetically, for the current of the blood, frozen by age
and chalkstoned by the gout, does not, though loosened
from disease, flow over the smooth pebbles of Helicon.
Mine, at best, were factitious rills that, like the artificial
cascatelle of Hagley, played for moments to entertain
visitors, and were not the natural bounty of the soU.
You are forced to restrain your torrent, and the dykes of
prudence must be borne down before it overflows the
country. Not so Mr. Anstey ; because his muddy miU-pool
had in one point of view the roar and lustre of a cascade
when it fell over a proper wheel, he thinks every pailful
of its water, though soused down by a ploughman, has
the same effect. His Somersetshire Dialogue is stupidity
itself ; you described it prophetically before you saw it.
Somebody or other has given us an epistle of another
kind by the late Lord Melcombe; — not different from
having more meaning, for Phoebus knows it has none at
all, but so civil, so harmless, and so harmonious, that it
is the ghost of one of Pope's tunes. How the puffy peer
hated the Duchess of Gloucester for but equally in vain. Walpole.
having been more successful. On ' Marguerite or Marie A]aooque
the death of the Duke of York, she (1647-1690), a nun of the order of the
tried ridiculously to make it believed Visitation,
that she had been married to him,
1776] To the Bev. William Mason 329
must have sweated when learning to sing of Pope, whom
he could have strangled ! The whole and sole drift of this
cantata is to call Lord Bute ' Pollio,' and to beg to be his
vicegerent upon earth. I should like to have heard
Lord Bute asking Sir Harry Erskine who ' Pollio ' was.
Mr. Whitehead has just published a pretty poem called
Variety, in which there is humour and ingenuity, but not
more poetry than is necessary for a Laureate ; however,
the plan is one, and is well wound up. I now pass to
prose.
Lo, there is just appeared a truly classic work : a history,
not majestic like Livy, nor compressed like Tacitus ; not
stamped with character like Clarendon ; perhaps not so
deep as Eobertson's Scotland, but a thousand degrees above
his Charles ; not pointed like Voltaire, but as accurate as he
is inexact ; modest as he is trancliant and sly as Montesquieu
without being so rechercM. The style is as smooth as
a Flemish picture, and the muscles are concealed and only
for natural uses, not exaggerated like Michael Angelo's to
show the painter's skiU in anatomy ; nor composed of the
limbs of clowns of different nations, like Dr. Johnson's
heterogeneous monsters. This book is Mr. Gibbon's History
of the Decline and Fall of the Moman Empire. He is son of
a foolish alderman, is a member of Parliament, and called
a whimsical one because he votes variously as his opinion
leads him ; and his first production was in French', in which
language he shines too. I know him a little, never suspected
the extent of his talents, for he is perfectly modest, or I want
penetration, which I know too, but I intend to know him
a great deal more — there ! there is food for your residence
at York.
Do I know nothing superior to Mr. Gibbon ? yes, but not
Letter 1682. — ^ Essai aur VEtude de la LitUrature, begun in 1758, and
finished in the following year.
330 To the Bev. William Mason [l776
what will entertain you at York ; Mr. Gibbon's are good
sense and polished art. I talk of great original genius.
Lady Di Beauclerk has made seven large drawings in
sut-water (her first attempt of the kind) for scenes of my
Mysterious Mother. Oh, such drawings ! Guido's grace,
Albano's children, Poussin's expression, Salvator's boldness
in landscape, and Andrea Sacchi's simplicity of composition
might perhaps have equalled them had they wrought all
together very fine. How an author's vanity can bestow
bombast panegyric on his flatterers ! Pray, Sir, when
did I take myself for an original genius ! Did not
Shakespeare draw Hamlet from Olaus Ostrogothus, or
some such name ; did Le Soeur conceive the Chartreuse
from any merit in the legend of St. Bruno ? Seeing is
believing, miracles are not ceased. I know how prejudiced
I am apt to be ; some time or other you wUl see whether
I am so in this instance.
Now for specific answers to your queries ; many of which
answers will not be specific, for I know little more than if
I were at York. I know nothing of Garrick's sale of patent,
but I know forty stories of his envy and jealousy that are
too long to tell you by mouth of pen ; of a Monsr. le Texier,
another real prodigy, who acts whole plays, in which every
character is perfect — and pray observe he has not read my
play. In sum, Garrick says when he quits the stage, he will
read plays too, but they will be better than Monsr. Texier's
(who only reads those of other authors), for he shall write
them himself. This I know he has said twice. Ex pede
Herculem. The Duchess of Kingston only knows whether
she will be tried. The Earl's zeal against her was as
m.arvellous to me as to you ; I know reasons why he should
have done the reverse, and cannot reconcile contradictions.
Why should not Sayer's affair sleep ? what, who is awake ?
For your hundred other queries which you have not put to
1776] To the Rev. William Mason 331
me, I shall not attempt to guess them, not from idleness,
but from the probable incapacity of my being able to answer
them. The womb of time is big ; we shall see whether she
is delivered of mice or mountains.
One word about myself, and I have done. I know you
disKked my answer to Dr. MUles ^, and I know I was angry
both at him and Mr. Hume. The latter had acted very
treacherously by the story I have hinted at of the Swiss
reviewer'. Dr. Milles is a fool, who had been set on by
Lord Hardwicke and that set, and at whom I have glanced,
I have received many indirect little mischiefs from the Earl,
who has of late courted me as much, and I have been civil
to him. But my answers shall some time or other appear,
when I only shall be blamed and my antagonists will be
dead, and not hurt by them. For Mr. Masters, he is a dirty
simpleton, who began by flattering me, and because I
neglected him, joined the pack. The arguments in the
answers are very essential to the question, and I shall not
give myself the trouble of extracting the ridicule on the
answerers, as they deserved it.
My hands you see are well, but I could not have written
so long an epistle with my feet, which are still in their
flannels. As my spirits always revive in proportion as pain
subsides, I shall take the liberty (Sir Kesidentiary) to
trespass on your decorum by sending you an impromptu
I wrote yesterday, to pretty Lady Craven, who sent me
an eclogue of her own, every stanza of which ended with
January, and which she desired me not to criticize, as some
2 See note on letter to Cole of of Hnme's on the same subject.
Dec. 20, 1770. These had already been snbmitted
' M. Deyverdtm, a Swiss employed to and condemned by Horace Wal-
intheoffioeof the Secretary of State, pole, who objected to their publioa-
and a friend of Gibbon. He reviewed tion and to the nse made of them by
the Historic Doubts in Mirmires Litti- the reviewer. (See Horace Walpole's
rairea de la Grande Bretagne. To this Short Notes of my Life, under date of
article were appended some remarks May 1769.)
332 To the JRev. William Mason [i776
of the rhymes were incorrect, a licence I adopted in my
second line:
Though lame and old, I do not bum
With fretfulness to scare ye ;
And charms and wit like yours would turn
To May my January.
The God who can inspire and heal
Sure breathed your lines, sweet Fairy,
For as I read, I feel, I feel,
I'm not quite January.
Probably you would have liked better to have the eclogue,
but I had not leave to send it.
1683. To THE Eev. William Mason.
Feb. 29, 1776.
My confinement has made me a great devourer of quartos.
I am impatient to tell you what I have found in one as
large as Mr. Gibbon's, not quite so excellent a work, nor
so compressed, but which is not barren of entertainment,
though the first sections to be sure are to me absolute
Hebrew. This is Dr. Burney's ' History of Music, a volume
that I fear will a little interfere with my friend Sir John
Hawkins's on the same subject.
I must begin with telling you that in page 168 the
Doctor says he holds it impossible to be a great poet and
a great musician too. Now, not to mention Gray, who
(I believe, though I know nothing of music) was a great
musician, how could he forget you whom he has not for-
gotten ? for he has celebrated your harmonic knowledge in
his notes, though I perceive he did not know that you are
an inventor in the science, and have begotten a new instru-
ment by the marriage of two others : — but to the point.
Letter 1683.—' Dr. Charles Bumey (1726-1814).
1776] To the Bev. William Mason 333
"Would you believe that the great Abyssinian, Mr. Bruce,
whom Dr. B. made me laugh by seriously calling the intrepid
traveller, has had the intrepidity to write a letter to the
Doctor, which the latter has printed in his book ; and in
which he intrepidly tells lies of almost as large a magnitude
as his story of the bramble, into which his Majesty of
Abyssinia and his whole army were led by the fault of his
general, and which bramble was so tenacious, that his
Majesty could not disentangle himself without stripping to
the skin and leaving his robes in it, and it being death
in that country to procure or compass the sovereign's
nudity, the general lost his head for the error of his
march.
In short, Mr. Bruce has not only described six Abys-
sinian musical instruments, and given their names in the
ancient Ethiopic, and in the court language, but contributed
a Theban harp, as beautifully and gracefully designed as if
Mr. Adam had drawn it for Lady Mansfield's ^ dressing-room,
with a sphinx, masts, a patera, and a running foliage of
leaves. This harp, Mr. Bruce says, he copied from a paint-
ing in fresco on the inside of a cavern near the ancient
Thebes, and that it was painted there by the order of
Sesostris, and he is not at all astonished at the miracle
of its preservation, though he treats poor accurate Dr.
Pococke vsdth great contempt for having been in the cave
without seeing this prodigy, which, however, graceful as its
form is, Mr. Bruce thinks, was not executed by any artist
superior to a sign-painter, yet so high was the perfection
of the arts in the time of Sesac, that a common mechanic
could not help rendering faithfully a common instrument.
I am sorry our Apelles, Sir Joshua, has not the sign-
2 Lady Elizabeth Mnoh (d. 1784), field, whose house, Caenwood, near
sixth daughter of sixth Earl of Win- Hampstead, was designed by the
ohilsea ; m. (1738) Hon. WUliam brothers Robert and James Adam,
Murray, afterwards Earl of Mans-
334 To the Bev. William Mason [i776
painter's secret of making his colours last in an open cave
for thousands of years.
It is unlucky that Mr. Bruce does not possess another
secret reckoned very essential to intrepid travellers — a good
memory. Last spring he dined at Mr. Crawfurd's : George
Selwyn was one of the company. After relating the story
of the bramble, and several other curious particulars, some-
body asked Mr. Bruce if the Abyssinians had any musical
instruments ? ' Musical instruments ! ' said he, and paused
— ' yes, I think I remember one — lyre.' George Selwyn
whispered his neighbour, ' I am sure there is one less since
he came out of the country.' There are now six instru-
ments there.
Remember this letter is only for your own private eye ;
I do not desire to be engaged in a controversy or a duel.
My gout is waning, and my ambition looks down to
getting on a shoe in a few days. Mr. Stonhewer called on
me yesterday, and I diverted him with what had just hap-
pened. Mr. Cambridge had been with me, and asked me
if I knew the famous Beaumarchais ", who is in England.
I said, 'No, Sir, nor ever intend it.' 'Well, now,' said he,
' that is exactly my way : I made a resolution early never
to be acquainted with authors, they are so vain and so
troublesome.' I am persuaded he has got acquainted with
Beaumarchais by this time. Adieu !
P.S. When you read Dr. Burney, pray observe in
p. 256, in the notes, a quotation from Huet that exactly
describes Bryant's Ancient Mythology.
' Pierre Angustin Caron de Beamnarohaia (1732-1799).
1776] To the JRev. William Mason 335
1684. To THE Eev. "William Cole.
Arlington Street, March 3, 1776.
I AM sorry to tell you that the curious old painting at
the tavern in Fleet Street is addled, by the subject turning
out a little too old, Alas ! it is not the story of Francis I
— but of St. Paul. All the coats of arms that should have
been French and Austrian, and that I had a mind to con-
vert into Palatine and Lorrain, are the bearings of Phari-
saic nobility. In short, Dr. Percy was here yesterday, and
tells me that over Mr. Gough's imaginary Pavia is written
Damascus in capital letters. Oh, our antiquaries !
Mr. Astle has at last called on me, but I was not well
enough to see him. I shall return his visit when I can go
out, I hope this will be in a week ; I have no pain left,
but have a codicil of a nervous fever, for which I am taking
the bark. I have nothing new for you in our old way,
and therefore will not unnecessarily lengthen my letter,
which was only intended to cashier the old painting, though
I hear the Antiquaries still go on with having a drawing
taken from it. Oh, our antiquaries !
1685. To THE Eev. "William Mason.
Arlington Street, March 11, 1776.
Venisti, vidi, vicisti! Your letter arrived on Saturday,
General Conway came yesterday. Sir John Legard' will
have ample credentials to Brunswick, for Mr. Conway is
in friendship and correspondence with Prince Ferdinand,
and Sir John will certainly have leave to go after the review,
if officers are allowed to go abroad at this time. Thank you
heartily for giving me this opportunity.
Mr. Cumberland has published two Odes, in which he
Letter 1685, — ^ Sixth Baronet, of Gauton, Yorkshire.
336 To the Bev. William Mason [i776
has been so bountiful as to secure immortality for Gray,
for Dr. James's powder, and indeed for his own Odes, for
Father Time would fall asleep before he could read them
through. There is a dedication to Eomney the painter,
that hisses with the pertness of a dull man.
Bishop Keene wrote to me t'other day to know if I knew
anything of a whole length of my father, that was to be
sold by auction, and if I had any objection to his buying
it \ Was this folly ? or is it repentance, and he wants
a memento to remind him that he cheated my father's
daughter ° of a living and of marriage ?
I mentioned this to my nephew the Bishop of Exeter
just now, who told me that when Mr. GrrenvUle was turned
out (who had offered my Lord of Ely the Primacy of Ire-
land), he sent for the person who had brought him the
offer, and desired him to tell Mr. Grenville that he should
always acknowledge the obligation ; but that, as Mr. Gren-
ville was now out, he thought it right (perhaps he said,
honest) to tell him that his Lordship must look up to the
King, and to whomever his Majesty should make his minister.
The Duke of Wirtemburg* is arrived with a mistress,
whom he got made Countess of the Empire. The Queen
of France would not receive her : she has been received
at court here ; the man who keeps the Mtel garni in
Covent Garden would not lodge her for the reputation of his
house.
Here is a new epigram from France :
Qiielqu'un, dit-on, a peint Voltaire
Entre la Beaumelle et Freron;
Ccla feroit un vrai Calvaire
S'il n'y manquoit le ban larron.
2 It was lx>ught by Lord Hertford. temberg; d. 1793. His mistress (to
' Mrs. Baye ; see note on letter to whom he was married in 1786) wtis
Mann of Deo. 11, 1752. a Covmtess von Hohenhain.
4 Charles Eugene, Duis of Wflrt-
1776] To Sir Horace Mann 337
Voltaire himself has written a little poem called Sesostris,
which I do not send you, for it is only the worn-out choice
of Hercules.
P.S. I have often thought of a thing, and which, as you
are now at York I will mention, and beg you to suggest
to Peckitt. You know he and all the modern glass-
painters cannot recover the fine ancient reds and greens.
How is that possible, when every necklace-shop sells false
rubies and emeralds, which jewellers must take out of the
setting. To be sure they are not true ! and what are those
counterfeits but coloured glass ? Pray too, could not Peckitt
sketch the exact faces of Henry IV and Eichard III from
their statues on the screen of your cathedral ? I would pay
him for them.
1686. To Sis Hoeace Mann.
March 22, 1776.
I HAVE been so long confined, as I am stUl, that with
a dearth of public events, I have been little disposed to
write. My gouts, as they never attack my head or stomach,
are not alarming. One beUeves they protract one's life, but
they certainly undermine its vigour and its comforts. They
reckon this winter unfavourable to that disorder, and I cer-
tainly have seen several co-patients who complain of the
slowness of their recovery. My common sense tells me
that repeated attacks and increasing years must diminish
the powers of recovery. If my companions are more san-
guine, they flatter themselves, or say they do.
We know nothing new from America, since the general
belief that the attempt on Quebec has failed by the death
of Montgomery \ who was not so fortunate as Wolfe, to die
Lettbe 1686. — 1 General Eichard Montgomery, killed in an attack on
Quebec on Dec. 31, 1775.
WALPOLE. IX Z
338 To Sir Horace Mann [i776
a conqueror, though very near being so. No authentic
accounts are come from thence. In truth, the want of
communication, but to the Government, bolstered up by
an infinitude of lies, renders everything one hears prob-
lematic. However, had the ministers any good news, they
would be eager enough to divulge it. The season is far
advanced, yet their expeditions are much behindhand, and
the troops that do go will arrive during the dangerous
heats. Indeed, I do not think the general language is so
prophetic of certain success as it was three months ago, and
people seem to grow much more clear of the unpromising
state of affairs than they were.
What else can I tell you ? That dissipation and gaming
continue to stride before the war ? Yes, verily. A new club
is opened in St. James's Street, that piques itself on sur-
passing all its predecessors. But this is almost common-
place. The Duke of Wirtemberg, who has wasted revenues
enough to be worthy to be of it, is here, but here is no
phenomenon.
A senator of Eome, while Eome survives,
can continue to waste as much in one evening as a German
prince in an opera for a season. But it is the nation that
is really gaming deep — we have set twelve provinces on
the cast of a die. The Duke of Chartres^, they say, is
coming to the University of Newmarket. Different philo-
sophers, in different ages, visit different nations for different
kinds of lore. Our crocodiles are not the same with those
of Egypt.
The Duke and Duchess' seem much pleased with Eome.
I hope their villa is not within the precincts of the
malaria.
' Afterwards the notorioua Duke of OrlSans. Walpole.
^ Of Glouoester.
1776] To Sir Horace Mann 339
I did hear the report of the separation of the Cowpers,
but not knowing them, never thought about them. To tell
you the truth, the Earl *, I conclude, is a madman ; there-
fore, I wonder he does not come home. Our Countess^,
I am told, has bought an estate ; is it in Tuscany or
Naples ?
I can only repeat what I told you, that I am persuaded
the mortgage saddled on you was a stretch of power. For
the other articles, they must depend on deeds.
Everybody is on the quest for tickets for the Duchess
of Kingston's trial. I am persuaded her impudence will
operate in some singular manner. Probably she will
appear in weeds with a train to reach across Westminster
Hall, with mourning Maids of Honour to support her when
she swoons at her dear Duke's name, and in a black veil
to conceal her not blushing. To this farce, novel and
curious as it will be, I shall not go. I think cripples have
no business in crowds but at the Pool of Bethesda ; and to
be sure, this is no angel that troubles the waters.
I have nothing to add but an excellent bon mot of WUkes's
yesterday, on Lord George Germaine. The former had
moved for a more equal representative, from the natural
objection to the small boroughs. Two of them, indeed, he
owned, had the merit of sending two great ministers ;
Banbury, which chooses Lord North ; and East Grinstead,
that furnishes an heroic Secretaiy of State, who might
conquer America, though, he believed, it would not be in
Germany^ Adieu!
* Earl Cowper. WalpoU. disgraced for not leading up the
" The CounteSB of Orford. Wal- Blues. Lord Chatham boasted of
pole. having conquered America in Ger-
' Alluding to the battle of Minden, many. Walpole.
■where Lord George Germaine was
Z 2
340 To Br. Gem [i776
1687. To De. GemI.
Arlington Street, April i, 1776.
It is but fair, when one quits one's party, to give notice
to those one abandons — at least, modern patriots, who often
imbibe their principles of honour at Newmarket, use that
civility. You and I, dear Sir, have often agreed in our
political notions ; and you, I fear, will die without changing
your opinion. For my part, I must confess I am totally
altered ; and, instead of being a warm partisan of liberty,
now admire nothing but despotism. You will naturally ask
what place I have gotten, or what bribe I have taken?
Those are the criterions of political changes in England —
but, as my conversion is of foreign extraction, I shall not be
the richer for it. In one word, it is the Bilation du Lit de
Justice " that has operated the miracle. When two ministers'
are found so humane, so virtuous, so excellent, as to study
nothing but the welfare and deliverance of the people ;
when a King listens to such excellent men ; and when
a Parliament, from the basest, most interested motives,
interposes to intercept the blessing, must I not change my
opinions, and admire arbitrary power ? or can I retain my
sentiments without varying the object ?
Yes, Sir, I am shocked at the conduct of the Parliament
— one would think it was an English one ! I am scan-
dalized at the speeches of the Avocat General *, who sets up
the odious interests of the nobility and clergy against the
cries and groans of the poor ; and who employs his vdcked
eloquence to tempt the good young monarch, by personal
Letter 1687. — ' An English phy- '^ The first lit de justice held by
sioian long settled at Paris, no less Iiouis XTI. Walpole.
esteemed for his professional know- 3 ]^essrs. de Malesherbes and Tur-
ledge, than for his kind attention to got. Walpole.
the poor who applied to him for * Monsieur de Siguier. Walpole.
medical assistance. Walpole.
1776] To Br. Gem 341
views, to sacrifice the mass of his subjects to the privileges
of the few— But why do I call it eloquence ? The fumes of
interest had so clouded his rhetoric, that he falls into
a downright Irioism. — He tells the King that the intended
tax on the proprietors of land will affect the property not
only of the rich, but of the poor. I should be glad to know
what is the property of the poor ? Have the poor landed
estates? Are those who have landed estates the poor?
Are the poor that will suffer by the tax the wretched
labourers who are dragged from their famishing families to
work on the roads? — But it is wicked eloquence when it
finds a reason, or gives a reason for continuing the abuse.
The Advocate tells the King those abuses are presque
consacres par I'andennete ; indeed, he says all that can be
said for nobility, it is consacree par I'andennete ; and thus
the length of the pedigree of abuses renders them respect-
able!
His arguments are as contemptible when he tries to
dazzle the King by the great names of Henri Quatre and
Sully, of Louis XIV and Colbert, two couple whom nothing
but a mercenary orator would have classed together. Nor,
were all four equally venerable, would it prove anything.
Even good kings and good ministers, if such have been,
may have erred ; nay, may have done the best they
could. They would not have been good, if they wished
their errors should be preserved, the longer they had '
lasted.
In short. Sir, I think this resistance of the Parliament to
the adorable reformation planned by Messrs. de Turgot and \\
Malesherbes is more phlegmatically scandalous than the
wildest tyranny of despotism. I forget what the nation /
was that refused liberty when it was offered. This opposi-
tion to so noble a work is worse. A whole people may
refuse its own happiness ; but these profligate magistrates
342 To Dr. Gem [me
j resist happiness for others, for millions, for posterity ! —
Nay, do they not half vindicate Maupeou, who crushed
them ? And you, dear Sir, will you now chide my apostasy ?
Have I not cleared myself to your eyes ? I do not see a
shadow of sound logic in all Monsieur Siguier's speeches,
but in his proposing that the soldiers should work on the
roads, and that passengers should contribute to their fabric ;
though, as France is not so luxuriously mad as England,
I do not believe passengers could support the expense of
the roads. That argument, therefore, is like another that
the Avocat proposes to the King, and which, he modestly
owns, he believes would be impracticable.
I beg your pardon, Sir, for giving you this long trouble ;
but I could not help venting myself, when shocked to find
such renegade conduct in a Parliament that I was rejoiced
had been restored. Poor human kind ! is it always to
breed serpents from its own bowels? In one country, it
chooses its representatives, and they sell it and themselves ;
in others, it exalts despots ; in another, it resists the despot
when he consults the good of his people ! Can we wonder
mankind is wretched, when men are such beings ? Parlia-
ments run wild with loyalty, when America is to be enslaved
or butchered. They rebel, when their country is to be set
free ! I am not surprised at the idea of the devil being
always at our elbows. They who invented him no doubt
could not conceive how men could be so atrocious to one
i another, without the intervention of a fiend. Don't you
think, if he had never been heard of before, that he would
have been invented on the late partition of Poland ! Adieu,
dear Sir.
Yours most sincerely,
HoE. Walpole.
1776] To the Eev. William Mason 343
1688. To THE Rev. "William Mason.
April 8, 1776.
You find Circe and Alma Mater are too powerful.
Perhaps they are in alliance. H faut cultiver son jardin —
you must stick to your garden.
There is Dr. Chandler^ who was sent by the Dilettanti
too, and has just published his Travels in Grreece. They are
rather travels in Pausanias, for he does little but tell us
what Pausanias found woi-th seeing there. Except that,
which is no merit, the book is ill-written and unsatisfactory;
and yet he revived my visions towards Athens, and made
me wish I was a great king and could purchase to restore
it : a great king probably would hold it cheaper to conquer
it. This Dr. Chandler, as if to avenge his namesake, flirts
at Gray for having clothed 'Delphi's barren steep' with
woods, and converted Meander's muddy waves into amber,
as if amber did not poetically imply tlie same. I don't
wonder, with so little taste, he has written no better.
I bought yesterday a poem in blank verse called AmweTl,
by a John Scott ', Esq. ; it is a pious design to immortalize
a village in which John Scott, Esq., lives. I only mention
it for one grand and beautiful image which struck me
extremely : —
oft Fancy's ear.
Deep in the gloom of evening woods, has heard
The last sad sigh of Autumn, when his throne
To Winter he resign'd.
It puts me in mind of that sublime passage in Dyer's
Buins of Borne : —
hears the voice of Time
Disparting towers.
Lettee 1688.— 1 Eiohard Chandler, D.D. (1738-1810).
a John Scott (1780-1783), a Quaker.
344 To the Bev. William Mason [l776
I don't know whether you are much acquainted with my
Swiss footman, David ? Well ! he does not think there is
so great a prince in the world as I. Yesterday as I came
to breakfast, he told me coolly the Duke of Wirtemhurg had
called at eight o'clock and wanted a ticket for Strawberry
Hill. ' Bless me ! ' said I, ' and what did you say ?' ' I told
his Grace you was not awake, and bad him come again at
ten.' 'Good God!' said I, 'tell him to call again! don't
you know he is a Sovereign Prince ? ' ' No, I did think he
was only a common Duke ! ' I could not help laughing,
though I was so shocked. In short, he had called again,
and had again been sent away, nor can David yet conceive
that I was to be waked. I was forced to write a thousand
lies and excuses, and swear I was bedrid with the gout, and
could not pay my duty to his Serene Highness, and upon
the whole was very glad for being reduced to plead the
gout. I sent Philip to show my house, and persist in my
crippletude, which in truth is still so fresh, that it would all
have revived, if I must have walked or stood two hours to
show his Serenity the tombs.
They are translating Shakespeare in France, and Othello is
so well done, that it has incredible success. The Abb6
Barthelemi, a very good judge and no partialist to England,
desired Madame du Deffand to tell me he finds Shakespeare
superieur a tout et qu'il me prioit de ne regarder que le dieu et
de ne pas faire attention a Vhomme. This is a strong proof
that both the Abb4 and the translators understand Shake-
speare, but what will they do with Falstaff? — impossible,
unless they are as able as Townley', who translated Hudihras
so admirably, which before seemed the most impracticable
of all achievements.
Is not your residence nearly exhausted, and don't you
' Jotn Towneley (1697-1782) ; his hras was published anonymously in
translation of the first canto of Hudi- 1757 at Fans,
1776] To the Rev. William Mason 345
intend coming southward? Am not I to harbour you?
You shall be troubled with no Serene Highnesses, nor have
I wasted all my budget in my letters ; Lady Di's drawings
alone are worth a pilgrimage, — ask Mr. Palgrave, who has
seen them.
P.S. I have made a blunder, which will have puzzled
you. I recollect it was a Dr. Chapman, not Dr. Chandler,
who made so good an end by choking himself with
mackerel.
1689. To THE Rev. William Mason.
Eve of St. Elizabeth of Kingston,
Strawberry Hill.
I WILL not trouble you for a cast of King Eichard's face,
since there is no such thing ; nor of King Henry's, since it
has lost its mouth. I am grown such an antiquity myself,
and have so little time left to satisfy my fancies, that
I willingly contract them within as narrow a compass as
I can ; yet you commission me to send you journals of the
Duchess's trial, as if I was to be there ! My curiosity would
certainly carry me thither sooner almost than to any show
upon earth. I have known her from five years old, and
seen her in all her stages, but I am not well enough to
attend this last act of her drama — possibly may never go
to a public place again, having a strong notion of the
propriety of seceding, and not trailing one's weaknesses into
the world, when age and illness have told one to retire.
Thus you must expect no ocular accounts from me, perhaps
nothing better than the newspapers would tell you, except
with a little more authenticity.
Tuesday, April 16.
The Duchess-Countess has raised my opinion of her
346 To the Bev. William Mason [i776
understanding, which was always but at low ebb ; for she
has behaved so sensibly and with so little affectation, that
her auditory are loud in applause of her. She did not once
squall, scream, or faint, was not impudent, nor gorgeous,
looked well though pale and trembling; was drest all in
black, yet in silk, not crape ; with no pennon hoisted but
a widow's peak. She spoke of her innocence and of her
awe of so venerable an assembly. Yesterday passed in the
pleading of her counsel against a second trial, urging the
finality of the ecclesiastic sentence. I should think no
more would be done to-day than hearing the reply of the
prosecutor's counsel.
A previous incident was more entertaining than any part
of the piece ; the Grand Seneschal ^ invited the Duke of
Wirtemburg to dinner by a card, and translated it neither
into law Latin nor Norman French. By the help of Boyer's
Bictionary it began Le Jiaut Intendant envoie ses compliments,
&c. He ordered everybody to be uncovered while the King's
commission was being read, and then sat down himself and
put on his hat.
Lord Nuneham has just been here, not attending his
friend through all her course. She lay at home (or, ac-
cording to the chaste modern phrase, slept there), and
the Usher of Black Rod slept in the next room. My
journals are short, but you shall have the sequeL Adieu !
P.S. I this minute receive a letter from poor Mr.
Granger's nephew, to tell me his uncle was seized, at the
communion table, on Sunday, with an apoplectic fit, and
died yesterday morning at five o'clock. He was a good man
as ever lived.
2nd P.S. Thurlow, Wedderburn, and Dunning have
Lettkb 1689. — 1 Eaxl Bathvirst, who acted as High Steward at the
Duchess's triaL
1776] To Sir Horace Mann 347
answered the Duchess's counsel, and then the Lords ad-
journed till Friday ; so at soonest you will hear again by
Saturday's post.
1690. To THE Rev. William Cole.
April 16, 1776.
You will be concerned, my good Sir, for what I have
this minute heard from his nephew, that poor Mr. Granger
was seized at the communion table on Sunday with an
apoplexy, and died yesterday morning at five. I have
answered the letter with a word of advice about his MSS.,
that they may not fall into the hands of booksellers. He
had been told by idle people so many gossiping stories, that
it would hurt him and living persons if all his collections
were to be printed ; for as he was incapable of telling an
untruth himself, he suspected nobody else — too great good-
ness in a biographer.
Yours ever,
H.W.
P.S. The whole world is occupied with the Duchess of
Kingston's trial. I don't tell you a word of it, for you will
not care about it these two hundred years.
1691. To Sib Hoeace Mann.
Arlington Street, April 17, 1776.
I OPENED your letter of the 2nd with trembling, for the
Duchess of Gloucester had told me, with great concern,
the danger of Lady Lucy^ As she was still alive, and
your nephew thought her in less danger, I will venture to
Letter 1691. — ' Lady Lucy Noel, wife of Sir Horace Mann the younger.
WalpoU.
348 To Sir Horace Mann [1776
hope she is safe, because I wish it so much for all your
sakes ; but I shall be very impatient for another letter, and
to hear you yourself are better.
You may think of America, if you please ; but we think
and talk but of one subject, the solemn comedy that is
acting in Westminster Hall. Deep wagers had been laid
that the Duchess-Countess " would decamp before her trial.
This, with a million of other stories, have been so spread,
that I am determined to believe no one fact but what I shall
read in the printed trial ; for at it I have not been, though
curious enough about so august a mummery, and so
original a culprit ; but I am too little recovered to encounter
crowds.
The scene opened on Wednesday with all its pomp, and
had drawn hither even a Countess Castiglione, from Milan.
The doubly-noble prisoner went through her part with
universal admiration. Instead of her usual ostentatious
folly, and clumsy pretensions to cunning, all her conduct
was decent, and even seemed natural. Her dress was
entirely black and plain ; her attendants not too numerous,
her dismay at first perfectly unaffected. A few tears
balanced cheerfulness enough ; and her presence of mind
and attention never deserted her. This rational behaviour,
and the pleadings of her four counsel, who contended for
the finality of the Ecclesiastical Court's sentence against
a second trial, carried her triumphantly through the first
day, and turned the stream much in her favour.
Yesterday was less propitious. The Attorney and Soli-
citor-Generals ", and Dunning, refuted the Duchess's counsel,
made a very contrary impression, and seemed to have
unhinged some of her firmness. She was blooded as soon
as she retired, fell into a great passion of tears, and is, or
2 Elizabeth Chudleigh, CounteBS of Bristol, married during the Earl's life
to the last Duke of Kingston. Walpole. s Thurlow and Wedderburn.
1776] To Sir Horace Mann 349
affects to be, very ill. However, the Lords have given her
and themselves a respite of two days. On Friday the
opinion of the judges is to be asked on her plea against
a second trial, which, it is not doubted, will be overruled.
All the future is uncertainty ; whether she will be sent
back to the Ecclesiastic Court, or whether the Lords will
proceed to trial— either of which would produce deep probing
into her history ; or whether, to avoid either, she will not
plead guilty as soon as the Ecclesiastic Court's decisive
jurisdiction is set aside. In fact, this is as much the trial
of the Ecclesiastic Court as of the prisoner ; and may, at
least ought to, produce a reform of that Popish tribunal.
The Earl of Bristol ■* does not stand in a fairer predicament ;
and is not the whole burlesque, when, except the foreigners,
there could not be one person in the Hall who was not as
much convinced of the bigamy as of their own existence ?
But the world can make laws against crimes, till nobody
knows whether there is any crime which may not be
committed legally.
I now submit to recall my thoughts to America, for the
sake of you Italians and little states, who do not know
how superior fashion is in a great nation to national interests.
You need not be too impatient for events. The army that
was to overrun the Atlantic continent is not half set out
yet ; but it wUl be time enough to go into winter quarters.
What we have heard lately thence is not very promising.
The Congress, that was said to be squabbling, seems to
act with harmony and spirit ; and Quebec is not thought
to be so safe as it was a month ago. However, that is
the business of the ministers ; nobody else troubles his
head about the matter. Few people knew much of America
* Angnstns John Hervey, Earl of was supposed to have connived for
Bristol. He had never avowed his a sum of money at her marrying the
marriage vritb Miss Chudleigh, and Cuke. Walpole,
350 To Sir Horace Mann [i776
before ; and now all communication is cut off, and the
administration does not think itself bound to chant its own
disappointments, or the praises of the enemy, we forget
it as much as if Columbus had not routed it out of the
ocean.
Who thought of Mrs. Pitt ' rising again at Pisa ? I was
told she was in Provence, and imagined her on her return.
But who can calculate the motions of such eccentric heads
as the English? My dear countrymen and women are —
very sensible.
I return to poor Lady Lucy and you and your nephew.
How I wish you all at ease about her ! Pray, too, be
assured I acquiesce in all you say on your own return,
though grieved at your resolution, and more so at the
necessity you find in adhering to it. It is not my disposi-
tion to prefer my own pleasures to the welfare of my
friends. Your return might have opened a warm channel
of affection, which above thirty years could not freeze ; but
I am sure you know my steadiness too well to suspect me
of cooling to you, because we are both grown too old to
meet again. I wished that meeting, as a luxury beyond
what old age seldom tastes ; but I am too well prepared
for parting with everything, to be ill-humouredly chagrined
because one vision fails. Visions are the consolation of
life ; it is wise to indulge them, unless one builds on them
as realities. Our dreams are almost at an end ! Mine are
mixed with pain ; yet I think it does not make me peevish.
I accept with thankfulness every hour in which I do not
suffer. I am not at all impatient for the moment that will
terminate both anguish and cheerfulness, and I endeavour
to form my mind to resigning the first with gratitude, and
the latter with easy submission. Adieu !
' Mrs. Anne Pitt, sister of WiUiam, Earl of Chatham, Walpole.
1776] To the Hev. William Mason 351
1692. To THE Eev. "William Mason.
April 20, 1776.
YouE obedient journalist proceeds. He might plead
a headache ; but as that is generally pleaded when not felt,
a real one must not be disgraced by being turned into an
excuse, especially by so sacred a minister of truth— as a
newswriter.
The plot thickens, or rather opens. Yesterday the judges
were called on for their opinions, and una voce dismantled
the Ecclesiastic Court, which has not been treated with
much respect by the Common Law. The Attorney-General
then detailed the life and adventures of Elizabeth Chudleigh,
alias Hervey, alias the most high and puissant Princess the
Duchess of Kingston. Her Grace bore the narration with
a front worthy of her exalted rank. Then was produced
the capital witness, the ancient damsel who was present at
her first marriage and tucked her up for consummation.
To this witness the Duchess was benign, but had a transitory
swoon at the mention of her dear Duke's name; and at
intervals has been blooded enough to have supplied her
execution if necessary. Two babes were likewise proved
to have blessed her first nuptials, one of which for aught
that appears may exist and become Earl of Bristol. The
gaUant and faithful Earl of Hillsborough used all his
prowess to cross-question and browbeat the deponent, but
her Grace's other champion. Lord Mansfield, did not enter
the lists. The court is now hearing the other witnesses,
I have forsworn prophecy, and therefore tell you no particu-
lars of what is to come. If I hear anything in time this
evening of the events of the day, you shall know ; if not,
good night.
P.S. It is near seven, and the trial is not over. I must
352 To the Bev. William Mason [l776
go out and learn anecdotes, and cannot come home before
the post goes out ; so you must have patience till next
week.
1693. To THE Rev, "William Mason.
Sunday, April 21, 1776.
I HAVE an half-hour to spare, and employ it to continue
the trial, which wiU not be finished before Tuesday evening,
when I shall certainly neither have collected the sequel,
nor have time to write it, as I am to dine at the Eoyal
Academy.
Friday and Saturday have produced so much against the
Duchess-Countess, that she must have been distracted to
have sought the trial, or not poisoned the witnesses. The
judges quashed the Ecclesiastic Court as summarily as
Luther could have done ; and Thurlow has given an
Atalantis of her Grace's adventures, confirmed by evi-
dence. A maid has appeared who was present at her
first marriage and almost at its consummation. Serjeant
Hawkins has authenticated the birth of at least one child ;
and the widow of the parson who married her, and on
whom she forced a fictitious register, when she expected
the late Lord Bristol's death, and had a mind to be a
Countess, has deposed, that though privy to all these cir-
cumstances, visiting the new Duchess, the latter said to her,
' Mrs. Phillips, was not the Duke very good to marry an
old maid ? ' Both these women her avarice had turned
against her. Lord Barrington, subpoenaed against her, after
taking the oath, declared he would betray no confidential
secrets. The Lords were going to hang him for perjury,
but thought better on it, lest a quarrel between the two
Houses should prove favourable to America. His Lordship
faltered as well as they did; told more than he had de-
clared he would not tell, and yet prevaricated ; but for this
1776] To the Bev. William Mason 353
interlude you must wait for the printed trial, as I cannot
relate it accurately.
To-morrow the Duchess makes her defence ; and on
Tuesday the Lords give sentence. She has not preserved
the philosophy of the first day, but abused the first female
evidence whUe giving testimony. Lord Mansfield left the
Ecclesiastical Court in the lurch ; his cowardice always
supplanting his knavery. Adieu ! you shall know the
sequel by Wednesday or Thursday's post.
P.S. When does your residence conclude ? and when do
you come to Strawberry Hill ?
1694. To THE Rev. "William Mason.
April 23, 1776.
If you expect a long letter, you will be disappointed ;
if you are tired of my letters, you will be released. The
wisdom of the land has been exerted five days in turning
a Duchess into a Countess, and does not think it a punish-
able crime for a Countess to convert herself into a Duchess.
After a paltry defence and an oration of fifty pages, which
she herself had written and pronounced well, the sages, in
spite of the Attorney-General, who brandished a hot iron,
dismissed her with the simple injunction of paying her
fees ; all voting her guilty, the Duke of Newcastle softening
his vote with erroneously, not intentionally. So ends that
solemn farce ! which may be indifferently bound up with
the State Trials and The History of Moll Flanders. If you
write to her you must direct to the Countess of Bristol.
The Earl, they say, does not intend to leave her that title,
nor the house of Meadows a shilling, but there will be
quEeres to both designs. The Ecclesiastic Court, full as
guilty as the culprit, I dare to say, will escape as well.
WALPOLE. IX A a
354 To Sir Horace Mann [i776
Adieu! allow that I have obeyed you implicitly. I am
glad to have done with her.
1695. To SiE HoBACE Mann.
Arlington Street, April 24, 1776.
I WEiTE again so soon, because I owe you the sequel of
the trial. If the Pope expects his Duchess back, he must
create her one, for her peers have reduced her to a Countess.
Her folly and obstinacy now appear in their full vigour ;
at least her faith in the Ecclesiastic Court, trusting to the
infallibility of which she provoked this trial, in the face
of every sort of detection. A living witness of the first
marriage, a register of it fabricated long afterwards by
herself, the widow of the clergyman who married her,
many confidants to whom she had trusted the secret, and
even Hawkins the surgeon, privy to the birth of her child,
appeared against her. The Lords were tender, and would
not probe the Earl's collusion ; but the Ecclesiastical Court,
who so readily accepted their juggle, and sanctified the
second match, were brought to shame : they care not, if
no reformation follows. The Dachess, who could produce
nothing else of consequence in her favour, tried the powers
of oratory, and made a long oration, in which she cited
the protection of her late mistress'. Her counsel would
have curtailed this harangue, but she told them they might
be good lawyers, but did not understand speaking to the
passions. She concluded her rhetoric with a fit, and
the trial with rage, when convicted of the bigamy. The
Lktteh 1695, — ^ Miss Cliiidleigli of Kingston, without being a widow,
had been Maid of Honour to the the enigmatic epitaph of ^^eZiajLoe^m
Princess Dowager of Wales, and re- Cris;pu8^ nee Virgo, nee Mulier, nee
mained so long after she was married Vidita, sed Omnia, was applied to
to Mr. Hervey, but the marriage was her by the author of these letters,
not owned. As she married the Duke Walpole,
1776] To Sir Horace Mann 355
Attorney-General laboured to have her burnt in the hand,
but the judges were hustled into an opinion against it,
and it was waived. So all this complication of knavery
receives no punishment, but the loss of the Duchy ; unless
the civil courts below are more severe than the supreme
tribunal ; and thither her antagonists intend to resort.
The Earl's " family have talked loudly of a divorce ; but
if it is true that he has given her a bond of thirty thousand
pounds not to molest her, and that this bond is in Lord
Barrington's hands, either she will recriminate, and collu-
sion proved prevents a divorce ; or his silence will speak
the collusion. I am heartily tired of this farce, having
heard of nothing else this fortnight. Happily, in this giant
town one is not long troubled with stale events. Did I tell
you that a Madame Castiglione came on purpose from Milan
for this show ?
As I have heard no more from you of Lady Lucy, I flatter
myself that all danger is over. I shall like to have it
confirmed.
There is a report to-day that Spain has made free with
Jamaica, and taken it. I do not believe it ; but it is certain
that America furnishes administration with no good news.
Fifteen thousand of the destined troops are not yet sailed
thither.
I have just met with your name in a printed book, in
which your politeness is celebrated. It is called Letters
from Italy hy an Englishwoman. This is a Mrs. Miller,
whom perhaps you recollect. Ten years ago I knew her
and her husband, the faithful companion of her travels,
at Bath, near which they have a small house and garden,
in a beautiful spot called Bath-Easton. They were mighty
civil simple people, living with her mother, Mrs. Riggs,
a rough kind of English humourist. They ran out their
2 The Earl of Bristol.
A a 2
356 To Sir Horace Mann [i776
fortune, and all went to France to repair it. In France
the mother was left with the grandchildren, while the fond
pair resorted to Italy. Thence they returned, her head
turned with France and houts-rimes ; Ms, with virtu. They
have instituted a poetic academy at Bath-Easton, give out
subjects, and distribute prizes ; publish the prize verses, and
make themselves completely ridiculous ; which is pity, as
they are good-natured, well-meaning people. The poor
Arcadian patroness does not spell one word of French or
Italian right through her three volumes of Travels. I
wonder we have never had our friend Lady Pomfret's, as
she had something now and then like sense ; they would
have been still more absurd. Adieu !
P.S. I must add an anecdote of the Duchess-Countess
that I heard last night. On some altercation between her
and Sir Francis Molyneux, Black Eod, under whose custody
she was in her own house, she carried him into another
room, and showed him a hole in the ceiling or wainscot
made by a pistol-ball. I have heard formerly that she used
to terrify the Duke of Kingston in that manner with
threatening to murder him or herself. I think they favoured
her age as much as her person on her trial, for they
have made her but fifty. She must be fifty-five or six.
She and her brother were my playfellows, when we lived
at Chelsea, and her father was Deputy-Governor of the
College. I am fifty-nine almost, and boys and girls do not
play together unless near of an age, much less before one
of them is born. I believe you remember them at Chelsea
as well as I ; and what a heroine her mother was — at least
I have not forgotten this story of the latter. She was
coming home late at night, with two of the old pensioners
as patrol, walking behind the coach. She was asleep, and
was awakened by three footpads, one of whom held a pistol
1776] To the Bev. William Mason 357
at her breast. She coolly put her head out of the other
window, and said, ' Fire ! ' The patrol fired, and shot the
robber. The daughter does not degenerate.
Second P.S. There is not a word of truth in the report
about Jamaica ; such endless lies are coined every day, that
one is afraid of writing a word of news before it is musty
with age.
1696. To THE E.EV. William Mason.
strawberry Hill, May 4, 1776.
Do you think I have a Duchess to deplume every day,
that you bid me write to you again already ? Unconscion-
able divine, voracious appetite ! think of my poor swelled
fingers that sigh after repose ; think of my quivering ankles,
that will carry me to no mart of news. I am here these
two days, smelling my lilacs, and listening to my night-
ingales, and leaving the wicked town to the young and
healthy. I did not utinam that sedes senectae should be my
fate, that I should be able to do nothing but sit in my
garden ; but I am content hitherto, though I doubt the
rest of my days will be stUl less comfortable ; you might
gild them if you would, but your letter hesitates whether
you shall come southward or not this summer ; remember,
I must not calculate without my host the gout. Well,
let me see the drawing you talk of, and which yet I must
wait two posts before I know whether I am to see or not.
You must have a mighty opinion of my patience or in-
diiference, when you put it to so tantalizing a trial ; be
assured I have neither ; neither the virtue of commanding
my desires, nor the apathy that looks like commanding them.
Those same desires of mine, it is true, are exceedingly con-
tracted of late years, but then I valde volo what I do volo.
358 To the Bev. William Mason [i776
My curiosity about anything you draw or write is augmented
in proportion as it is decayed in general : my eyes are
grown stronger as my other utensils are enfeebled. They
twinkle with eagerness when you tell me of your drawing,
or your Garden being finished.
The Countess of Bristol retired to Paris incontinently.
A ne exeat regno came forth the night she was gone ! a
strange neglect in her adversaries ! Don't let us talk of
her any more ; yes, I will tell you what the droll caustic
Lord Abercorn said. Somebody hoped his Lordship had
not suffered by the trial ; he replied, ' Nobody suffered
by it.'
They write to me from London that the provincial army,
having been reinforced, had prepared to storm Boston, and
had begun to cannonade it, and that General Howe, unable
to maintain his post, had withdrawn with all his forces
to Halifax. I had heard this on Thursday before I came
out of town, but did not believe it ', for the Americans have
done nothing yet that has given me a high opinion of their
generalship. And that Halifax was left for Howe to retreat
to is hitherto incomprehensible, not to me, for I am ignorance
itself ; but everybody says so, and you know everybody is
always in the right.
Soame Jenyns has published a confirmation of the
Christian religion from internal evidence. Pray was not
his Origin of Evil a little heterodox ? I have dipped a little
into this new piece, and thought I saw something like
irony, but to be sure I am wrong, for the Ecclesiastical Court
are quite satisfied. I must seal my letter, and leave my
blue room to be seen by Prince Tuzupoff, who sent for
a card of admission. We have a torrent of foreigners in
England, and unfortunately they are all sent hither, but then
Ijettbr 1696. — 1 It was the case ; Howe evacuated Boston on March 6,
1776.
1776] To Sir Horace Mann 359
they comprehend nothing, and are gone in half an hour.
I have read an account of Strawberry in a book called
Londres ; in which my name is Robert, my house lives
at Putney, the book-cases in the library are of inlaid woods,
and I have not a window but is entirely of painted glass.
This is called seeing and describing. Adieu !
Yours ever,
H. W.
1697. To THE Eev. William Mason.
May 14, 1776.
You are not apt to express yourself unintelligibly, nor
I, I hope, to misunderstand you ; I did not expect a drawing
in colour, but with the pen, in chiaroscuro, which I like
better on some subjects than in oil. I am still sorry it is
not to be in the Exhibition.
I am but this minute come to town, and know nothing
but from the papers, which say everything prospers with
the Americans. As they are driving out all the Scotch,
I conclude the Duchess of Kingston will contribute another
bank-note \
Do you, or do you not, ever come to town again ? do not
be enigmatic in a reply to this question.
Yours ever,
H, W.
1698. To SiE HoEACE Mann.
strawberry Hill, May 17, 1776;
As I knew no more than the newspapers would tell you,
I did not announce to you the retreat of the King's army
from Boston. Great pains were taken, and no wonder,
to soften this disgrace. Such arts may serve a moment,
Lettke 1697. — ' She had contributed fifty pounds towards the relief of
the North American clergy.
t
360 To Sir Horace Mann [i776
but the truth emerges, unless some advantage compensates
— and as yet, that is neither the case, nor seems likely
to be. What is or will be the fate of General Howe or
his army cannot be known for some time — I doubt his
prospect is not fair. Many think Quebec itself is gone ',
and that the ministry know it. The American war begins
to lose its popularity.
I saw in the papers to-day that your younger sister ^ is
dead. I tell it you without ceremony : I believe you never
was acquainted with her ; nor was I.
My principal reason for writing now, is to send you
a letter of attorney, without which Sir Edward and I cannot
receive our salary : you will be so good as to have it
witnessed by any two Englishmen, and return it as soon
as you can. I hope this slight one is all the trouble we
shall give you.
By the long interval, I trust Lady Lucy is quite out of
danger, and your nephew at ease about her.
We swarm with new peers and peeresses, English,
Scotch, and Irish ; you will see the two former in the
Gazette ; the last are known, but not yet declared. We
have coveys of foreigners too, particularly French : I have
given two dinners here lately to the latter.
Is it not shameful to send such a note as this so far?
If I would have recourse to little arts, I might have
transcribed the list of peerages, which would have reached
to the bottom of the page ; but a bead-roll of unknown
names would only tire you. It has long been a settled
point that we cannot correspond about obscure persons, as
many of these are. You are a stranger to common actors :
Letter 1698. — ^ This was not the the besiegers,
case ; General Carleton held out until '^ The two younger sisters of Sir
May, when the town was relieved by Horace Mann were married to two
the arrival of a British squadron. gentlemen of the name of Foote, in
Carleton then sallied out and routed Kent. Walpole.
1776] To Sir Horace Mann 361
like heroic tragedies, we can deal only in very great person-
ages. Even newspapers have the advantage of me, for
they may detail births, deaths, and marriages. The summer
will probably not be so barren as that season generally
is, though the great campaign will scarce begin before
August ; yet Quebec and Halifax must be fruitful of some-
thing, and perhaps Virginia and New York : but you are
no vulture, and do not desire to banquet on battles. In
one word, my letters, written for your information, must
depend on events ; and when they are short, or none, you
will excuse it ; and now that half my letter has been an
apology, it is best to put an end to it.
May 18th.
Your letter of the 4th is this moment arrived, with
others from France, and would enable me to cancel my
last paragraphs. I am heartily sorry for your accounts of
Lady Lucy, but cannot believe in the contagion of con-
sumptions, especially in a better climate. Were it catching,
it would be still more common here than it is. The child
may indeed be affected, as partaking of the mother's con-
stitution ; but I, who have little faith in physicians, have
none at all in those of Italy, where physic is as much an
old woman as religion.
As soon as I go to town, I will inquire into the etiquette
of your proxyhood^ The King gives plate to his god-
children ; you, I dare to say, are to give nothing, and
indubitably have no particular dress. Here I think the
lord or lady who represent, ride backwards and alone in
a royal coach ; as your own is a representative of the King's,
no doubt it will do ; but you shall know in time.
In the present state of America, the estate of Tortola is
not worth a lock of wool, nor would anybody purchase it
' Sir Horace was to stand godfather for the King to a child of Earl
Cowper. Walpole.
362 To Sir Horace Mann [l776
but for a song. By the abstract of the letter to your nephew,
the best pretensions seem to be in your brother's children,
though by the property being reverted to the crown, you or
your nephew might ask it. If obtained, it would certainly
be advisable to sell it, for the expense of improving such
grants is enormous, and can rarely be advantageous but
to those who inhabit the spot. Proprietors are exposed
to all sorts of disadvantages, and are enormously cheated by
their agents, under every difficulty of prosecution. I know
Mr. Duane, who has one of the fairest characters of the law,
is old and very rich ; and whatever he may have thought
of formerly, perhaps does not think of the purchase at
present. It will be long, I fear, ere American improve-
ments revert to their late rapidity — however, the moment
makes the boon a less favour to ask or grant.
A great revolution has happened in Trance. Monsieur
de Maurepas and Vergennes, either not to burn their own
fingers, or to involve Tm-got (of whom the former was
grown jealous) and Malesherbes in a scrape, set the latter
on representing to the Queen that she ought to abandon
M. de Guisnes *. Her Majesty, and consequently the public,
laughed at him. He, who hated his place, asked to resign,
and it was at last granted. But to-day's letters add, that
Turgot is also dismissed, and the King has thanked M. de
Gruisnes for his services and made him a Due a brevet.
This implies what I have said these six months, that
a woman who passes every night with a man, however
unmanly and unwomanly, would prevail at last, if he
passed no moments with any other woman. Malesherbes
is the best of men, but void of all ambition. Turgot has
the ambition of reforming the nation, and blessing the
* Guinea and Turgot had quar- The Queen favoured Guinea as an
relied, and Guinea had in conae- adherent of Choiseul, whom she
quenoe been recalled by Louis XVI. wished to restore to power.
1776] To the Bev. William Mason 363
people ; is intrepid, indifferent to fortune, and determined
to carry his points, or fall. Such men, friends of human
kind, could not think of war, however fair the opportunity
we offered to them. Poor France, and poor England !
Choiseul, if not Choiseul, some Louvois or other, will rise
out of this fall of patriot philosophers ; and then we shall
be forced to see the wisdom of the Stamp Act, and of
persisting in taxing America ! Somebody rings at the
gate, but I have said enough to furnish you with reflections.
Monsieur de NoaUles is named Ambassador hither, but that
does not comfort me.
May 20.
I saw Lady Holdernesse ^ to-night and consulted her, and
found I had been right in all my directions. You can give
nothing unless you are ordered ; and as you cannot possibly
go in one of the King's coaches, need not ride backwards
in your own. I have neither room, nor more to say if
I had.
Postscript You must fill up the blank with the date, and
insert the name of WUliam Suckling, Esq., after the words
in the blank authorize and appoint. After W. Suckling,
add. Deputy Collector of the Customs, of New North Street, Red
Lion Square. I have writ the words necessary with a
pencil.
1699. To THE Rev. "William Mason.
strawberry Hill, May 20, 1776.
By my being here for some days I did not receive your
drawing so soon as I ought to have done, nor even knew it
was arrived. I thank you for it and like it excessively.
You have done full justice to Gray ; I am sorry he cannot
5 One of the Ladies of the Bedohamber to Queen Charlotte. Walpole.
364 To Sir Horace Mann [i776
see it, for it is as fine as Mr. Bentley's drawings for the
rest of his Odes. I admire particularly the figure of
Mista, black terrific maid*,
who has a masculine gait that put me in mind of old
Leveridge *, when he used to act Hecate in Macbeth. I hope
you will draw the Descent of Odin, too, which I love as much
as any of Gray's Works. I never was fond of the Triumphs
of Owen.
To-night I have received (here in town) from Mr. Ston-
hewer your second Garden ' ; it has my fullest imprimatur.
I thought the beginning a little cold, but it soon rises into
charming poetry, and from the 210th line is more beautiful
than the first book. I like the ' sheep devouring the lawn
into verdure,' and from thence all is quite to my taste. 'The
dusty Sabbath ' is admirable, but above all I am touched
with the scene of cottage children, which is equal to any-
thing you ever wrote ; so are the lines on their sorrow
and smiles. The story of Abdolonimus finishes the whole
nobly. "Write away, write away, and if you will not come
to town — write away ; yet I do wish now and then to
see such a priest of Apollo. Adieu !
P.S. This was not sent so soon as it ought to have been by
an accident.
1700. To SiK Horace Mann.
strawberry Hill, May 27, 1776.
This fatal year puts to the proof the nerves of my friend-
ship! I was disappointed of seeing you when I had set
Lettkb 1699. — 1 See Gray's Fatal produced with mnsic stated to have
Sinters. been partly composed by him.
2 Eiohard Leveridge, born about ' Probably the second book of
1670, d. 1758 ; a singer and composer Mason's poem The English Flower
of songs. In the first capacity he Garden.
acted Hecate in Macbeth when it was
1776] To Sir Horace Mann 36f
my heart on it ; and now I have lost Mr. Chute ' ! It "i^^
a heavy blow ; but such strokes reconcile oneself to parting
with this pretty vision, life ! What is it, when one has
no longer those to whom one speaks as confidentially as
to one's own soul ? Old friends are the great blessing of
one's latter years — half a word conveys one's meaning.
They have memory of the same events, and have the
same mode of thinking. Mr. Chute and I agreed invari-
ably in our principles ; he was my counsel in my aifairs,
was my oracle in taste, the standard to whom I submitted
my trifles, and the genius that presided over poor Straw-
berry ! His sense decided me in everything ; his wit and
quickness illuminated everything. I saw him oftener than
any man ; to him in every difiiculty I had recourse, and
him I loved to have here, as our friendship was so entire,
and we knew one another so entirely, that he alone never
was the least constraint to me. We passed many hours
together without saying a syllable to each other; for we
were both above ceremony. I left him without excusing
myself, read or wrote before him, as if he were not present.
Alas ! alas ! and how seZ/ presides even in our grief! I am
lamenting myself, not him !— no, I am lamenting my other
self. Half is gone ; the other remains solitary. Age and
sense will make me bear my affliction with submission
and composure — but for ever — that little for ever that
remains, I shall miss him. My first thought will always
be, ' I wUl go talk to Mr. Chute on this '; the second, ' alas !
I cannot ' ; and therefore judge how my life is poisoned !
I shall only seem to be staying behind one that is set out
a little before me.
Mr. Chute for these last two or three years was much
broken by his long and repeated shocks of gout, yet was
Letter 1700. — ' John Chute, EscL-, of the Vine in Hampshire ; the last
of the male line. Walpole.
366 To Sir Horace Mann [i773
amazingly well, considering he had suffered by it from
twenty to seventy-three ! Still as he never had had it in
his head or stomach, I never was alarmed till last summer,
when he had a low lingering fever, and sickness and pain
in his breast, with returns of an excessive palpitation at
his heart, which formerly much alarmed me, but of which
he had been free for some years. He got better and went
to the Bath, which gave him the gout, and he returned
quite well ; so well, that, alarmed at our situation, he
thought of drawing some money out of the stocks and
buying an annuity, saying he thought his life as good
as any man's for five years. I am sure I thought so too.
On Thursday last, being surprised at his not calling on me
for three days, which was unusual, I went to him and was
told that he was very ill. I found him in bed ; he had so
violent a pain in his breast that two days before he had
sent for Dr. Thomas, whom he had consulted in the summer,
though of all men the most averse to physicians. Thomas
had given him an hundred drops of laudanum and assa-
fcetida. Mr. Chute said, ' It is not the gout ; I have had my
palpitation, and fear it is something of a polypus.' Thus,
perfectly reasonable, though with much more indifference
than he who was all spirit and eagerness used to have,
I attributed it to the laudanum, and indeed he desired me
to leave him, as he was heavy, and wanted to sleep. He
dozed all that evening, and had no return of pain. On
Friday morning, still without pain. I saw him again.
He had taken more assafcetida, but no more laudanum ;
yet, when I said I trusted the pain was gone, he said,
' I do not know ; the effects of the laudanum are not yet
gone.' I said I thought that impossible ; that the pain would
have surmounted the laudanum by that time, if the pain
were not removed. I was coming hither on business, and
charged his gentleman to send for me if the pain returned.
1776] To Sir Horace Mann 367
On Saturday morning I rejoiced at not receiving even
a letter by the post, and concluded all was well.
This dream of satisfaction lasted all that day and Satur-
day night. I knew he would take no more laudanum,
unless the pain returned, and that then I should be adver-
tised. But, oh, unhappy ! yesterday, just as I had break-
fasted, and was in the garden, I heard the bell at the gate
ring, and wondered, as it was but ten o'clock, who could
come to me so early. I went to see, and met my valet de
chamhre, with a letter in his hand, who said, 'Oh, Sir,
Mr. Chute is dead ! ' In a word, he had continued quite
easy till three that morning, when he said, ' Who is in the
room ?' His own gentleman replied, ' I, Sir !' and, going to
the bed, foimd him very ill, ran to call help, and, returning
as quick as possible, saw him dead ! It was certainly
a polypus ; his side immediately grew black as ink. A
charming death for him, dearest friend ! And why should
I lament ? His eyes, always short-sighted, were grown
dimmer, his hearing was grown imperfect, his hands were
all chalk-stones and of little use, his feet very lame — yet
how not lament ? The vigour of his mind was strong as
ever ; his powers of reasoning clear as demonstration ; his
rapid wit astonishing as at forty, about which time you and
I knew him first. Even the impetuosity of his temper
was not abated, and all his humane virtues had but increased
with his age. He was grown sick of the world ; saw
very, very few persons ; submitted with unparalleled
patience to all his sufferings ; and, in five-and-thirty years,
I never once saw or heard him complain of them, nor, pas-
sionate as he was, knew him fretful. His impatience seemed
to proceed from his vast sense, not from his temper : he saw
everything so clearly and immediately, that he could not
bear a momentary contradiction from folly or defective
reasoning. Sudden contempt broke out, particularly on
368 To Sir Horace Mann [i776
politics, which, having been fixed in him by a most sensible
father, and matured by deep reflection, were rooted in his
inmost soul. His truth, integrity, honour, spirit, and
abhorrence of all dirt, confirmed his contempt ; and even
I, who am pretty warm and steady, was often forced to
break off politics with him, so impossible was it to be
zealous enough to content him when I most agreed with
him. Nay, if I disputed with him, I learnt something
from him, and always saw truth in a stronger and more
summary light.
His possession of the quintessence of argument reduced
it at once into axioms, and the clearness of his ideas struck
out flashes of the brightest wit. He saw so suddenly and
so far, that, as Mr. Bentley said of him long ago, ' His wit
strikes the more you analyse it, and more than at first hear-
ing ; he jumps over two or three intermediate ideas, and
couples the first with the third or fourth.' Don't wonder
I pour out my heart to you ; you knew him, and know how
faithfully true all I say of him. My loss is most irreparable.
To me he was the most faithful and secure of friends, and
a delightful companion. I shall not seek to replace him.
Can I love any that are old, more than I have had reason
for loving them ? and is it possible to love younger, as one
loved an habitual old friend of thirty-five years' standing ?
I have young relations that may grow upon me, for my
nature is affectionate, but can they grow old friends ? My
age forbids that. Still less can they grow companions. Is
it friendship to explain half one says? One must relate
the history of one's memory and ideas ; and what is that to
the young, but old stories? No, my dear Sir, you could
be that resource, but I must not think of it — I must not
be selfish. I must do what I ought to do, while I remain
here ; pass my time as amusingly as I can ; enjoy the
friends I have left ; drink my grief in silence — it is too
1776] To Sir Horace Mann 369
sincere for parade ; and what cares the world about my
private sensations ? Or what has an old man to do but to
try to be forgotten ; and to remember how soon he will be
so ? Forgive this expansion of my heart ; it was necessary
to me. I wDl not often mention poor Mr. Chute even to
you. His loss is engraven on my soul, and real grief does
not seek for applause. Could the world's plaudit comfort
me, sit with me, hear me, advise me ? Did it know
Mr. Chute's worth as well as I did ? Does it love me as
well? When it does, I will beg its compassion. I have
done, and will now show you I am master of myself, and
remember you, and consider that at this distance of time
you cannot feel what I do, and must be . anxious about
public affairs. If I indulged my own feelings, I should
forswear thinking of the public. Re is gone to whom
I ran with every scrap of news I heard ; but I promised to
forget myself: I will go take a walk, shed a tear, and
return to you more composed.
I take up my pen again, and fear my last sentences have
made you expect some news. I know none ; except that
I think the intoxication of this country begins to wear off.
The stocks have taken the alarm, and the ministers have
felt it some time. The change in the French councils has
changed the spirits of ours. I believe almost any peace
would be welcome to them. I doubt the Americans have
experienced too much of our inability to hurt them ; and as
I have no great faith in virtue tempted by power, I expect
that the American leaders, having too fair a field before
them, will not easily part with dictatorships and consulships
to retire to their private ploughs. Oh madness ! to have
squandered away such an empire ! Now we tremble at
France, which America enabled us to resist. How naturally
our ideas hang on our country, even when all future ages
are the same to one who is going to leave it ! What wUl it
WALPOLE. IX fib
370 To Viscount NuneJmm [i776
be to me a few years hence, whether England shrinks hack
to its little insular insignificance under George the Third or
George the Tenth ? Yet, as our minds seldom roam into
the future aifairs of the world, we rejoice or grieve over the
state of our country according to the condition in which we
leave it at our departure. Else why do people nurse visions
of pride about their own descendants? How long do the
greatest and most ancient families last ? What a speck in
rolling ages does the longest genealogy occupy ! — but I will
moralize no more. To-day's misfortune has given a wise
cast to my mind. Spirits and foUy will have their turn
again, and perhaps are as wise. To act with common sense
according to the moment, is the best wisdom I know ; and
the best philosophy, to do one's duties, take the world as it
comes, submit respectfully to one's lot, bless the Goodness
that has given so much happiness with it, whatever it is,
and despise affectation, which only makes our weakness
more contemptible, by showing we know that we are not
what we wish to appear. Adieu !
1701. To Viscount Nuneham.
I AM very sorry, my dear Lord, to have missed seeing you
both yesterday and to-day ; and so I always am, as your
goodness to me is excessive, and most gratefully felt.
I wished particularly to ask a favour, which is that your
Lordship will do me the honour of dining at Strawberry
Hill some day before you go out of town; and I flatter
myself Lady Nuneham will do so too, though she ought to
be ashamed to come so near my printing house, when she is
so cruel as to refuse to do it the honour it is so ambitious
of. Any day after the Birthday will be equal to me, and if
you both condescend, I will beg Lord and Lady Jersey to be
so good as to meet you.
Lkttek 1701. — Endorsed May 1776.
1776] To the Rev. William Cole 371
Are you thunder-stnick or laughter-struck with the
revolution in the Penetralia^? Whither shall we go if
Lord Solon ' and Bishop Plato " are not perfect enough to
form young Montezuma, the future Emperor of America?
I hear even Mile. Crumb * is no longer our Mie.
Yours most devotedly,
H. W.
1702. To THE Eev. "William Cole.
strawberry Hill, June 1, 1776.
Me. Granger's papers have been purchased by Lord
Mountstewart, who has the portrait-frenzy as well as I ;
and, though I am the head of the sect, I have no longer
the rage of propagating it, nor would I on any account take
the trouble of revising and publishing the MSS. Mr. Granger
had drowned his taste for portraits in the ocean of biography ;
and, though he began with elucidating prints, he at last
only sought prints that he might write the lives of those
they represented. His work was grown and growing so
voluminous, that an abridgement only could have made it
useful to collectors.
1 am not surprised that you will not assist Dr. Kippis ' :
Bishop Laud and William Prynne could never agree. You
are very justly more averse to Mr. Masters, who is a prag-
matic fellow, and at best troublesome.
If the agate knives you are so good as to recommend to
me can be tolerably authenticated, have any royal marks, or,
' An allusion to the changes in by the Queen to enter the royal ser-
the establishment of the Prince of vice. According to Horace Walpole,
Wales and Prince Frederick. the favour at court of Lord and Lady
2 Lord Holdernesse, who had re- Holdernesse was indirectly due to
signed the post of Governor to the this lady's influence.
Princes. Letter 1702. — i Andrew Kippis,
3 Markham, Bishop of Chester, dis- D.D. (1726-1795), a Nonconformist,
missed from his post as Preceptor. He had undertaken to prepare the
* Mile. KhrBme, a Swiss Pro- second edition of the Biographia
testant. She was governess to Lady Britannica.
Holdemesse'e daughter until induced
B b 2
372 To Sir Horace Mann [l776
at least, old setting of the time, and will be sold for two
guineas, I should not dislike having them, though I have
scarce room to stick a knife and fork. But if I trouble you
to pay for them, you must let me know all I owe you
already, for I know I am in your debt for prints and
pamphlets, and this new debt will make the whole con-
siderable enough to be remitted. I have lately purchased
three apostle-spoons to add to the one you was so kind as to
give me.
What is become of Mr. Essex? does he never visit
London? I wish I could tempt him thither or hither.
I am not only thinking of building my offices in a collegiate
style, for which I have a good design and wish to consult
him, but I am actually wanting assistance at this very
moment, about a smaller gallery that I wish to add this
summer ; and which, if Mr. Essex was here, he should
build directly. It is scarce worth asking him to take the
journey on purpose, though I would pay for his journey
hither and back, and would lodge him here for the necessary
time. I can only beg you to mention it to him as an idle
jaunt, the object is so trifling. I wish more that you could
come with him. Do you leave your poor parishioners and
their souls to themselves ? if you do, I hope Dr. Kippis will
seduce them. Adieu ! dear Sir. Yours ever,
H. W.
1703. To SiE HoEACE Mann.
strawberry Hill, June 5, 1776.
My letters grow scarce or multiply according as the
season is fruitful of events or not. These last days have
been very prolific. The freshest incidents, and those that
will interest you the most, are from America, and have
raised the hopes that a fortnight ago were exceedingly
desponding. The provincials have again attempted to
1776] To Sir Horace Mann 373
storm Quebec, and been repulsed with great loss by the
conduct and bravery of Carleton*, who, Mr. Conway has
all along said, would prove himself a very able general.
Succours have since arrived in the town. The remarkable
General Lee'' is taken prisoner by General Clinton in
Carolina ; as the Americans say, by his own treachery :
however, though the fact is not doubted, as it comes from
themselves, the story is very dark. General Howe is arrived
safe at Halifax, some say, having been repulsed at New
York'. The American Admiral Hopkins, with three or
four ships, has been worsted and disgraced by a single
frigate*. Your Bible, the Gazette, will tell you more
particulars, I suppose, for I have not yet seen it ; and
the d la mains^ of the court have given Howe a victory,
and Hopkins chains, which I do not believe will appear
in that chronicle ; however, you may certainly sing some
Te Deums in your own chapel.
These triumphs have come on the back of a very singular
revolution which has happened in the Penetralia, and made
very great noise. Yesterday se'nnight it was declared that
the Bishop of Chester" and Mr. Jackson', Preceptor and
Sub-preceptor to the Prince of Wales, were dismissed,
and that Lord Holdernesse and Mr. Smelt *, Governor and
Sub-governor, had resigned their posts ; Lord Bruce " and
Dr. Hurd", Bishop of Lichfield and Coventry, being named
Letteb 1703. — ' Afterwards Sir main.'
Guy Carleton, Knight of the Bath, ^ Dr. Markham, afterwards Arch-
and Commander at New York till bishop of York. Walpole.
the Peace. WalpoU. ' Cyril Jackson (1746-1819). He
2 This did not prove tme at that took orders soon after his dismissal,
time, thongh it did happen after- and was Dean of Christ Church,
wards. WalpoU. Oxford, 1783-1809.
3 This was not the case. ' Leonard Smelt, Esq. WalpoU.
< The Glasgow, commanded by • Bruce Brudenel Bruce, youngest
Captain Tyringham Howe. The en- brother of the Earl of Cardigan,
gagement took place on April 6, WalpoU.
1776, off the coast of Connecticut. '" Dr. Hurd was afterwards Bishop
» Abbreviation of ' nouvelles i. la. of Worcester. WalpoU.
374 To Sir Horace Mann [l776
their successors, and the former declared Earl of Ailesbury.
No reason whatever was assigned for so total a change, which
did not allay the astonishment. It is now known that on
Lord Holdernesse's return from the south of France he
found a great alienation from him in the minds of his
royal pupils ", which he attributed to Jackson. This grew
so bad, that after vainly complaining of Jackson, and as
vainly having obtained reproof, the Bishop, who seemed
to be the instigator of the manoeuvre and subsequent
disobedience, was turned out with his instrument, and the
Earl saw it hopeless to try to recover his authority.
Mr. Smelt, promoted by him, would not survive him.
I make no comments — your own mind will suggest alarming
reflections on the prospect of a scene that has twice happened
since the family came over ".
What will you say, if out of this change of decoration,
another has happened already ; yes, already ! Lord Bruce,
who had taken seisin, retired abruptly into the country,
without asking or taking leave. On inquiry where he was
and when he would return, his colleague said he had no
thoughts of returning. It is said that his mad wife",
Mr. Hoare's daughter, had written a piteous letter, promising
she should die if deprived of her dear Lord ; but must not
her dear Lord be as frantic, to quit in so indecent a manner ?
Have not I told you long that we are all mad ? Whence do
you think the successor is chosen? From the self-same
family. It is the Duke of Montagu.
Here is a short letter, which with any address I might
have made a folio ; but I content myself with giving you
^' The Prince ofWales, and Prince i' Susanna (d. 1783), daughter of
Frederick, Bishop of Osnaburgh, Henry Hoare, of Stourhead, Wilt-
afterwards Duke of York. Walpole. shire ; m. (1) Charles Boyle, Viscount
1* An allusion to the quarrels in Dungarran (eldest son of fifth Earl
the household of George III when of Cork) ; (2) Thomas Brudenell
Prince of Wales. See letter to Mann Bruce, Baron Bruce of Tottenham,
of Deo. 11, 1752. afterwards Earl of Ailesbury.
1776] To the Bev. William Cole 375
the quintessence of events. My own mind loses every year
the roots that hold it to the world. There is little pleasure
in thinking, when one has no longer those to whom and
with whom one loved to communicate reflections. One's
own country becomes another country when the dramatis
personae are totally changed. Young princes and their
favourites only give one a peep into the history of the
future world, as if a printer brought one the wet sheets
of a book that is to be published after one's death. If one
outlives one's friends, it is being but a Strulbrug. Adieu !
1704. To THE Eev. "William Cole.
strawberry Hill, June 11, 1776.
I AM grieved, and feel for your gout ; I know the
vexations and disappointments it occasions, and how often
it wUl return when one thinks it going or gone. It
represents life and its vicissitudes. At last I know it
makes one content when one does not feel actual pain — and
what contents, may be called a blessing : but it is that sort
of blessing that extinguishes hopes and views, and is not so
luxurious but one can bear to relinquish it. I seek amuse-
ments now to amuse me ; I used to rush into them, because
I had an impulse and wished for what I sought. My want
of Mr. Essex has a little of both kinds, and it is for an
addition to this place, for which my fondness is not worn
out. I shall be very glad to see him here either on the 20th
or 21st of this present month, and shall have no engagement
till the 23rd, and will gladly pay his journey. I am sorry
I must not hope that you will accompany him.
Yours ever,
H. Walpole.
376 To the Countess of Ujpjper Ossory [i776
1705. To THE Countess of Uppeb Ossoey.
Arlington Street, June 20, 1776.
If one could resign one's place, without being supposed
going into opposition, I should certainly ask my sovereign
lady's leave to quit the office of gazetteer ; and my motion
would be as singular as my practice. Incapacity is my plea,
and age the cause. It is a young world, and I neither live
in it, nor am acquainted with it. I know nothing worth
knowing, I do nothing worth doing — of what can I write ? —
My old friends die off, I cannot make new, for the fewer ties
one has to a world one is going to leave the better. I have
been almost alone at Strawberry ever since your Ladyship
left town. I came yesterday, and return to-morrow. Had
there been any news, I should have heard — nay, perhaps
I did, for I called at Mr. Beauclerk's in the evening, where
I found Lord Pembroke, Lord Palmerston, Garrick, Burke,
the Dean of Derry ', Lord Eobert Spencer, and Mr. Gibbon ;
but they talked so loud (not the two last), and made such
a noise, and Lord Palmerston so much more noise with
trying to talk, that it was impossible to know what they
said, under the distance of a mile from them. All I did
learn was, that Miss Vernon " is not married. I should be
very angry if she was, and you had said nothing of it ; and
that another lady ', who has been on the brink of marrying
as many Dukes as the Duchess of Argyll, is not yet Lady
Maynard. It is pity; she deserves a peerage as much as
most that have got them lately. The Binghams are incog,
at Paris ; their letters of recommendation announced them
Lettek 1705. — ' Dr. Barnard. ' Anne Parsons, known as Mrs.
^ Mias Henrietta Vernon married Horton, formerly the mistress of the
on July 14, 1776 (as his second wile), Duke of Grafton. She married (in
George GrevUle, second Earl of War- June or July 1776) Charles Maynard,
wick. second Viscount Maynard.
1776] To the Countess of Upper Ossory 377
as my Lord and Lady Lucan*, and the patents are still
wind-bound.
I smiled at your Ladyship's orders, but I think the person
you gave me charge of is in no danger of what you appre-
hend, unless for debt.
To make this a decent letter, I shall transcribe some lines
that I found on my table on Sunday night. I had dined at
Lady Blandford's, and the Beauclerks with Mr. Gibbon and
Monsieur le Texier had been to drink tea with me in the
meantime. The last wrote these lines in a moment, and
they are certainly good for impromptus, —
Si vous aviee scu qu'aujourdhui
But venir dans voire castel
La plus aimable mylady,
Qui n'a nuUe autre en son pareil ;
Yous n'auriez houge du ceans,
Et sans courir la pretantaine,
Vous auriee attendu cent ans
Plutot que perdre telle aubaine.
Pourtant dans icelle visite
Nous serions Men disappoinies
Sans la bonne Dame Marguerite,
Qui nous a fait d'excellent the.
EUe a suspendu nos regrets,
Et nous a prouve comme un livre,
Par ses soins et son sgavoir vivre,
Qu'd tels maltres sont tels valets.
I am to have Mr. Essex to-morrow from Cambridge, to
try if he can hang me on anywhere another room for Lady
Di's drawings. I have turned the little yellow bed-
chamber below stairs into a beauty room, with the
pictures I bought', along with the Cowley, at Mr. Lovi-
* Sir Charles Bingham was created prominent at the court of Charles 11,
on July 24, 1776, Baron Lucan of copied by Charles Jervas from the
Castlebar, county Mayo, originals, and sold with his house
5 Nineteen portraits of persons at Hampton to Edward Lovibond
378 To Count Schuwahf [i776
bond's sale, but I could not place the drawings there,
because I will have a sanctuary for them, not to be shown
to all the profane that come to see the house, who in
truth almost drive me out of my house. Adieu, Madam,
remember this is summer, and that I am Methusalem. He
left off writing news when he was past an hundred.
1706. To Count Schuwalof.
Je me flatte, M. le Comte, que vous aurez recu avant
cette lettre une petite caisse de Medalions, que j'ai adressfee
a notre boncne Amie de St. Joseph '. J'ai depense tout votre
argent, mais la quantity n'est pas inconsiderable, et cepen-
dant il m'en reste encore deux k vous envoyer, que le
Marchand avoit oublife, et qu'il ne m'a remis, qu'apres
la Caisse partie. Parmi celles que vous avez, U y a une
tete en profile de My Lord Chatham, que vous reconnoitrez
tres facilement. Si vous etes content de mes soins, n'oserai-
[je] pas me flatter que vous voulez bien me faire I'honneur
d'etre votre commissionaire? II me sera bien sensible
d'avoir occasion de vous faire souvenir de moi. Ce n'est
point assurement que vous ne m'aiez bien trop distingue
par la place que vous m'avez destine dans certain Portrait
precieux que je n'ai pas la hardiesse de montrer. Mon
estampe sera encore trop glorieuse si vous lui faites I'honneur
de la garder dans votre chambre ; mais jamais je n'aurai
le front de me faire encadrer avec Vous. Vous me privez
de I'honneur de me vanter d'avoir votre portrait, et je vous
supplie de ne pas attribuer k la fausse modestie ma re-
pugnance k occuper une place aussi honorable, et qui n'est
(1724-1775), son of a Director of verbatim et liberatim from facsimile
the East India Company. Lovibond in Lescure's Correspondance de la
wrote poetry and contributed to the Marquiae du Deffand^ vol. ii. pp.
World. 560-1.
Letter 1706. — Not inC. ; reprinted 1 Madame du Deffand.
1776] To the Countess of Uppev Ossory 379
pas faite pour un petit Homme comme moi, qui n'ai jamais
rien fait de meritoire. Votre Portrait serait depreci^ h,
cause de I'accessoire. Si vous me fachez, je vous ferai
tenir k la main le Cardinal de Eichelieu, aussi Indigne
d'etre votre Associe que ne Test,
Mens' le Comte,
votre tres devoufe Serviteur
De Strawberry Hill, ce 23 Juin 1776. HoRACE Walpole.
1707. To THE Countess of Uppee Ossoey.
strawberry Hill, June 25, 1776.
I ASSURE you, my dear Madam, that it is no idleness that
dictates my excuses. It would be my greatest satisfaction
to be able to entertain every minute you could bestow on
me ; nor is my nature idle ; but my summers are so
solitary, or passed in such insipid company, my age weans
me so much from the young and active world, and I care
so little what it does, that I cannot write letters, without
feeling that they want an apology. When I find I grow
old, would it not be strange vanity to imagine that others
do not perceive it ? I never had parts that could afford
to be diminished, and it is honest to give one's friends
warning when the crack is begun. But I hate to talk
of myself, even on the depreciating side, though much more
excusable than its contrary. I have given you notice :
you shall know everything I hear worth telling you ; but
I cannot make brick with my Lady Greenwich's gazettes.
I am extremely pleased with the new Countess of
Warwick, though I think the Earl might have made a
more suitable match without wandering out of the family '.
Letter 1707. — 1 Horace Walpole sister, Lady Louisa Fitzpatriolc, mar-
probably refers to Lord Ossory's own ried in 1779 to the Earl of Shelburne.
380 To the Countess of Upjper Ossory [i776
I can easily conceive why a notable aunt^ did not think
so. Before your Ladyship's letter arrived, I had heard
of a mysterious and very private party on the water,
which left me no doubt. There was only Lady Notable,
Miss Vernon, the Earl, and his brother. On perceiving
they were seen, the ladies held down their heads, and
Miss Vernon landed with her hood quite down over her
face. How certain should we be of governing the peer,
if we could have persuaded him to steal his bride ! for you
know. Madam, one always governs those one has cun-
ningly made marry. Pray continue your goodness to
the two other sisters, that they may spitefully be matched
to dukes ; or was it to show more consummate address
than another protectress ? Forgive me if I suspect that it
was not mere kindness to the bride that operated the
service, though I hope it will prove real happiness to her,
who is so intituled to it.
1 heard t'other day, from very good authority, that all
Ireland is America mad— that was the expression. It was
answered, ' So is all the Continent.' Is it not odd that this
island should, for the first time since it was five years old,
be the only country in Europe in its senses ?
The case is, England was never governed by Scotland
before, where a very profound author has pronounced
the wisest heads in Christendom grow ; and yet the Scots
do not love that author with all his impartiality. Yours,
Madam, &c.,
Dunce Scotus.
P.S. I have just been told a good story of the Duchess
of Queensberry. She dined at the Dean of Lincoln's ' with
2 Most likely the Ducliess of Bed- ' Hon. and Eev. James Yorke
ford, aunt of the Miss Vemons and (d. 1808), fifth son of first Earl of
of Lady Louisa Fitzpatriok. Eardwioke ; Dean of Lincoln, 1762-
1776] To the Countess of Upper Ossory 381
much company. After dinner, the ladies retiring, found
themselves shut into a drawing-room without any con-
venience, and with but one door. When they could keep
their patience no longer, the Duchess, opening the door into
the parlour, said, ' Mr. Dean, you have given us an ad-
mirable dinner, good wine, and an excellent dessert, but
you must remember that we are not residentiaries.'
I enclose a letter of another Duchess, which is not much
inferior to her epistle to Foote. I believe you may trust to
its being genuine, for I received it from Italy.
My lock of hay begs its respects to your hay mountains,
and hopes they are in a fair way.
2nd P.S. Though your Ladyship would persuade me
to cast my slough, I assure you I am not without flatterers
of another sort, who encourage me in nay Tom-Hearneality.
I have just received a poem called Wittenham Hill, in
which I am hailed as a father of ancient lore,
What means (0 ! for a Walpole's antique skill !)
What means the milk-white cross on yonder hUl !
I can but laugh at my own party-coloured life — sometimes
at Paris, and an editor of Grammont ; sometimes playing
all night at pharaoh with Madame de Mirepoix, or at loo
with a greater favourite ; now writing fables for Lady
Anne, and verses for the Graces ; then accused as a plotting
republican ; while, at best, the truth is, as I told the late
Lord Holland when I set up my printing press,
Some have at first for wits, then poets past,
Tum'd printers next, and proVd plain fools at last.
3rd P.S. They are so amazed and charmed at Paris with
Lady Bingham's miniatures, that the Duke of Orleans has
81 ; Bishop of St. Davids, 1774-79; of Gloucester, 1779-81 ; of Ely, 1781-
1808.
382 To the Countess of Upper Ossory [i776
given her a room at the Palais Eoyal to copy which of his
pictures she pleases. The Queen, on the Due d'Aiguillon's
losing his only daughter, begged of the King to permit
him to go wherever he pleases, except to court, with
positive command never to appear there. This shows her
Majesty's power ; and Mr. Falkener *, who has just returned
from Italy through France, told me last night that it is
generally believed M. de Choiseul will be replaced ; that
they have thirty-six ships ready, and are even pressing
carpenters into the service. What a prospect ! Who will
at last be the America-mad ?
4th P. S. Pray do not give a copy of the Duchess's letter ;
for I have no ill-will to her, and do not want to spread her
follies.
Ma CHEEE Amie, Calais, le 26 Avril, 1776 ".
J'ai I'honneur de vous annoncer que les Feres ont decidez
que la sentance de la Cour Chretienne ne devoit pas justifier
le mariage que j'ai contracts avec le Due de Kingston. lis
ont dishonnerez la Cour Ecclesiastique dont les dogmes ont
ete suivis inviolablement pendant 1475 ann6es. En detrui-
sant cette cour de justice je suis la malheureuse sacrifice,
mais ils ne peuvent enlever mon bien, ils n'ont pas ordonner
pour me punir que de leur faire la reverence. Ce fut tout
pour le public, mais vis-a-vis de vous, ma chfere amie, je
vous confesse que je reste dans un 6tonnement sans egale.
L'ame fremit contre I'injustice, qu'on ma faite. J'espfere
que si vous voulez penser k moi, vous serez persuadSe que
j'ai resist6e pendant 20 ann6es h accepter la main du Due
de Kingston. Scachant que le Comte de Bristol d'k present,
autrefois Mr. Hervey, pretendoit avoir des droits sur moi,
< William Augustus Fawkener, (See Notes and Queries, Aug. 4, 1900.)
eldest son of Sir Everard Fawkener, Vernon Smith, who first printed
Knight; Envoy to Lisbon, 1786; to this letter in his edition of Walpole's
Florence, 1787 ; to St. Petersburg, Letters to Lady Ossory, gives the
1790. He was also Clerk to the following note; — 'The spelling of
Privy Council. this letter is as in the original, which
^ Enclosed in the previous letter, is in Kirgate's handwriting.'
but hitherto printed separately.
1776] To the Hon. Henry Seymour Conway 383
je ne I'auroit pas dans un age plus avanc6 risqu6e, j'aidonc
pris le parti de me marier qu'avec la permission de I'arche-
veque et la sentance de la Cour Ecclesiastique que j'ai eu
I'honneur de vous montrer.
Men intention estoit pour le moins aussi bonne que mon
sort est malheureux. Je suis done, ma ch^re amie, dans
la Cour Ecclesiastique reconnue pour Duchesse de Kingston,
avec las Peres comme Comtesse de Bristol. En ligne directe
de ma propre maison il y a 350 ans, et pour les pas je
les ayant toujours cedez h, ceux qui vouloit les accepter —
la grandeur et les richesses ne sont pour moi que des
embarras.
Je vous embrasse, et je suis de coeur et d'ame,
ma cbfere amie, toujours k vous,
Elizabeth, Duchesse de Kingston.
Aussitot que la sentance fut pass6e je me suis embarque
pour Calais, car ces bons messieurs avoient desin de me
retenir en Angleterre par un loi qu'on nomme a ne exeat
regno, mais m'6tant sauv6 il n'est plus question de ce
malheur la ! Je vous prie d'assurer le Prince Connestable
de mes respects, et de m@me au deux Princes Cardinaux.
1708. To THE Hon. Henry Seymour Conway.
strawberry Hill, June 30, 1776.
I WAS very glad to receive your letter, not only because
always most glad to hear of you, but because I wished
to write to you, and had absolutely nothing to say till
I had something to answer. I have lain but two nights
in town since I saw you ; have been, else, constantly here,
very much employed, though doing, hearing, knowing
exactly nothing. I have had a Gothic architect from
Cambridge to design me a gallery, which will end in
a mouse, that is, in an hexagon closet of seven feet diameter.
I have been making a beauty room, which was effected
by buying two dozen of small copies of Sir Peter Lely^
and hanging them up ; and I have been making hay, which
384 To the Hon. Henry Seymour Conway [i776
is not made, because I put it off for three days, as I chose
it should adorn the landscape when I was to have company,
and so the rain is come, and has drowned it. However,
as I can even turn calculator when it is to comfort me
for not minding my interest, I have discovered that it
is five to one better for me that my hay should be spoiled
than not ; for, as the cows will eat it if it is damaged, which
horses will not, and as I have five cows and but one horse,
is not it plain that the worse my hay is, the better ? Do
not you with your refining head go, and, out of excessive
friendship, find out something to destroy my system. I had
rather be a philosopher than a rich man; and yet have
so little philosophy, that I had much rather be content than
be in the right.
Mr. Beauclerk and Lady Di have been here four or five
days — so I had both content and exercise for my philosophy.
I wish Lady Ailesbury was as fortunate ! The Pembrokes,
ChurchUls, Le Texier, as you will have heard, and the
Garricks have been with us. Perhaps, if alone, I might
have come to you ; but you are all too healthy and har-
monious. I can neither walk nor sing ; nor, indeed, am
fit for anything but to amuse myself in a sedentary trifling
way. What I have most certainly not been doing, is writing
anything : a truth I say to you, but do not desire you to
repeat. I deign to satisfy scarce anybody else. Whoever
reported that I was writing anything, must have been so
totally unfounded, that they either blundered by guessing
without reason, or knew they lied — and that could not be
with any kind intention ; though saying I am going to do
what I am not going to do is wretched enough. Whatever
is said of me without truth, anybody is welcome to believe
that pleases.
In fact, though I have scarce a settled purpose about
anything, I think I shall never write any more. I have
1776] To the Hon. Henry Seymour Conway 385
written a great deal too much, unless I had written better,
and I know I should now only write still worse. One's
talent, whatever it is, does not improve at near sixty —
yet, if I liked it, I dare to say a good reason would not
stop my inclination; — but I am grown most indolent in
that respect, and most absolutely indifferent to every pur-
pose of vanity. Yet without vanity I am become still
prouder and more contemptuous. I have a contempt for
my countrymen that makes me despise their approbation.
The applause of slaves and of the foolish mad is below
ambition. Mine is the haughtiness of an ancient Briton,
that cannot write what would please this age, and would
not, if he could.
Whatever happens in America, this country is undone.
I desire to be reckoned of the last age, and to be thought
to have lived to be superannuated, preserving my senses
only for myself and for the few I value. I cannot aspire
to be traduced like Algernon Sydney, and content myself
with sacrificing to him amongst my lares. Unalterable in
my principles, careless about most things below essentials,
indulging myself in trifles by system, annihilating myself
by choice, but dreading foUy at an imseemly age, I contrive
to pass my time agreeably enough, yet see its termination
approach without anxiety. This is a true picture of my
mind ; and it must be true, because drawn for you, whom
I would not deceive, and could not, if I would. Your
question on my being writing drew it forth, though with
more seriousness than the report deserved — yet talking to
one's dearest friend is neither wrong nor out of season.
Nay, you are my best apology. I have always contented
myself with your being perfect, or, if your modesty demands
a mitigated term, I will say, unexceptionable. It is comical,
to be sure, to have always been more solicitous about the
virtue of one's friend than about one's own ; yet, I repeat
WALPOLE. IX C C
386 To the Countess of Upper Ossory [i776
it, you are my apology — though I never was so unreason-
able as to make you answerable for my faults in return ;
I take them wholly to myself. But enough of this. When
I know my own mind, for hitherto I have settled no plan
for my summer, I will come to you. Adieu !
1709. To TEE Countess of Uppee Ossoey.
strawberry Hill, July 10, 1776.
Wars and rumours of wars ! Is your Bedfordshire militia
ready, Madam? The Due de Chartres is at Gales, and
even the stocks, who hitherto have been as dull as the
country gentlemen, begin not to like it. The Duke of
Eichmond, who is returned, thinks Maurepas will keep off
the war as long as he can, and yet the Duke owns the
preparations are prodigious ; and that Spain has insisted on
this armament. Do they humour her in an armament, and
yet mean nothing by it ? Where have we an army, except
of Irish peers ' ?
When is Henrietta' to take possession of Warwick Castle?
Is a dun cow to be roasted whole, or boiled in Guy's
caldron ? Lady Powis is gone for such an exploit on her
son's coming of age. This is all I know upon earth, but
that my hay is a perfect water souchy, and my roses and
orange-flowers all drowned ; and I am such a heathen, that
I am more sorry for my nosegays than my revenue. Have
you had but a Patriot court ? that is, a thin one ? You see
I am disposed. Madam, to pay my quit-rents, though I have
but a pepper-corn ; but we that know nothing, can say
nothing. Jemmy Brudenel ', no doubt, can write volumes
full of matter — happy man, say I.
Lettee 1709. — 1 Thirty Irish peers ^ Hon. Jamea BrudeneU, after-
had recently been created. wards Earl of Cardigan, Master of
2 Miss Henrietta Vernon. the Eobes to the King.
1776] To the Countess of Upper Ossory 387
He dwells amidst the royal family,
And can of all our Harries, all our Edwards talk'
of whom, thank Heaven ! there is a tolerable quantity.
I shall be much better company when the French land ;
though, as I have a little money in the stocks, to be sure
it wUl not be very pleasant. Adieu ! Madam ; write to me,
that I may have something to answer at least.
1710. To THE Countess of Uppee Ossoey.
Arlington Street, July 13, 1776.
When the wind blows, wait for the echo. If your
Ladyship believes all you read in the papers, I humbly pity
you. Instead of crediting a quarter, I have the honour
to think that there is little but lies in the accounts from
America. I see regiments and ships sending every day,
as if the ministers thought they had not half force enough
there, though by their own accounts the business wUl be
over before those that are going can pack up a nightcap.
Instead of the war being near at an end, I believe we are
going to have two more ; and as our army is in America,
I hope France and Spain wUl be so punctilious as to go
thither after it. If they have not given assurances they
will, there does not seem much sense in sending every man
out of the kingdom, unless as an excuse for non-resistance.
However, as nothing is so fallible as conjectures built on
reasoning, I choose to pin my faith on firmer ground. I
dreamt that Lord Guilford was sent to the Congress, that
the leaders immediately accepted pensions and Irish peer-
ages, and that their wives instantly hoisted pyramids of
feathers on their heads to show that their hearts were
entirely English. I give you my word this dream is true,
and I prefer it to the Gazette itself.
• Pope, Sat. viii. 11. 103, 105 adapted.
C C 2
388 To the Countess of Upper Ossory [i776
Thus much for my political faith : now to answer your
questions, Madam. What am I doing ? Strictly speaking,
nothing : yet, according to the expressive old adage, I am
as busy as a hen and one chick. I am obeying the Gospel,
and putting my house in order, am ranging my prints and
papers, am composing books, in the literal sense, and in
the only sense I will compose books any more. I am
pasting Henry Bunbury's ^ prints into a volume ; and as
man is a contradiction, I am setting my house in order
against I leave it — and yet am building a new room. I do
not go to Bristol, for Lady Laura '^ is recovered, and I shall
go for a few days to Brighthelmstone, because I am not
recovered, and want the sea air to recover that strength
I never had, and is not all returned. Surely there is
enough of myself!
Truly I know not whether the young Prince is inoculated
or not. I suppose, as Pope says of Selkirk, ' if I live I shall
love him,' but as yet he has not taken up an inch in my
thoughts, which have vast difficulty in extending their
affections to babes and sucklings. Even princes of fourteen'
do not enter into my litany. And this leads to another
of your Ladyship's questions. Windsor is not the great
castle, but its footstool, the small house where Queen Anne
used to take a cheerful glass with Lady Masham. It is
whispered that change of air has been recommended. Nay,
the lookers-out are full of I know not what visions, pre-
sented to their wicked imaginations by certain rays that
have flashed out of the cloud that lately hung over the
A-B-C-dario. Bons mots are quoted worthy of young Ammon
in his nonage. Another chimera is, that there is a visible
Letter 1710. — ' Henry WiUiam Walpole.
Bnnbnry (1750-1811), second son of "^ Lady Laura Waldegrave.
Eev. Sir Wniiam Bunbury, fifth ^ Tlie Prince of Wales was nearly
Baronet, He presented one of his fourteen,
drawings (' Eiobmond Hill ') to Horace
1776] To Sir Horace Mann 389
atrophy and wasting. Now for my part, I am determined
not to build any views on a fourth reign, like those late
seers the Duke of Newcastle and Lord Bolingbroke ; because,
if I should have the misfortune to survive to that period,
I should probably be as much a child as I was when I was
presented to George I, and therefore I declare I will never
hear a word of politics under George IV.
I came to town last night on a little business, and return
to-morrow. The Duchess of Bristol was seen yesterday
in this very town. More this deponent saith not.
One word more, on our old quarrel, and I have done.
Smh letters as mine ! I will tell you a fact. Madam, in
answer to that phrase. On Mr. Chute's death, his executor
sent me a bundle of letters he had kept of mine, for above
thirty years. I took the trouble to read them over, and
I bless my stars they were as silly, insipid things, as ever
I don't desire to see again. I thought when I was young
and had great spirits, that I had some parts too, but now
I have seen it under my own hand that I had not, I will
never believe it under anybody's hand else ; and so I bid
you good night,
1711. To Sir Hokace Mann.
strawberry Hill, July 16, 1776.
You wUl think I have been less periodically punctual
than usual, but appearances only are against me, for I wrote
to you a week ago by a person that is gone to Italy, though
the Lord knows when you will receive it ; nor is it much
matter, for I had nothing new to tell you, and write now
only out of decorum. To be sure every day may produce
news from America, but nothing has come since my last.
I wish the probability of news may not be opened at a
new war-office. The vast preparations in France, exacted as
390 To Sir Horace Mann [l776
they pretend by Spain, and not much more comfortable for
that, either announce war, may beget it, or at least can easily
be blown into a ilame. Why we should tempt it, and yet not
expect it, is a problem not soluble by my old-fashioned head.
The Duchess of BristoF is returned — to avoid outlawry.
The Earl, whom she has made a dowager, talks, and
seems to act resolution of being divorced ; and the Eccle-
siastical Court, who has been as great a whore as either of
them, aifects to be ashamed, and thunders against the
Duchess. In the meantime the Meadowses ^ prosecute the
Earl for the whole receipt of the Kingston estate, as her
Grace is his Countess. People cry out that the House of
Lords cannot grant a divorce after such symptoms of collu-
sion. I beg their pardons ; I do not know what the House
of Lords cannot do.
Will you take this for a letter ? It will, at least, do to
keep a place for its predecessor, which was more portly,
if not more substantial. If I would stoop to artiiice, I could
insert a list of so many new Irish lords, that there would
be no room to sign my name. But what would you care
for a bead-roll of mushrooms, half of whom, like your
procession-nobility at Florence ', will not be gentlemen
under a generation or two ? They are like the Lord Bate-
man, whom George I made an Irish peer, to avoid making
him a Knight of the Bath ; for, said he, 'I can make him
a lord, but I cannot make him a gentleman.' Nay, all
these earls and barons may be well born for aught I know,
but their very number makes them a mob — they are thirty.
What is become of Mrs. Anne Pitt ? Lady Lucy Mann,
I trust, was in less danger than her husband apprehended.
Letteb 1711. — ^ The Duchess of second son of Sir Philip, Walpole.
Kingston. Walpole. ' Citizens ennobled at Morence
2 Nephews of the Duke of King- are allowed to rank as nobles only
ston by his only sister, Lady Frances at processions, till the third genera-
Pierpoint, wife of Mr, Meadows, tion, Walpole.
1776] To Sir Horace Mann 391
I have a high opinion of the sea, and am going to try
its air myself, for I have not recovered my feet quite yet,
and always found singular benefit from sea-breezes, which
are all I shall try now, and on shore. One ought to try,
though one must not imagine that strength is to return,
when one is no boy, as it used to do. I have no such
impertinent presumption, and always submit with profound
deference to whatever penalties years impose, or that tyrant,
the gout. Age has still its comforts. They who disdain
them, and insist upon pleasures, do not understand their
own interest. The most grievous part of old age is the
loss of old friends : they have no succedaneum. Adieu !
17th.
The Duchess of Newcastle* died this morning, aged
seventy-five. She was perfectly well on Monday night,
when she went to bed, was seized between two and three
with an apoplexy and total loss of sense, and expired at
eleven to-day. I just mention deaths of those you re-
member. To myself I seem Methuselem, for I can scarcely
reckon twenty of those who formed tJie world when I came
into it ; but, indeed, as my father was minister, I came into
it at five years old. Sometimes I think this my second life,
so totally is everything changed.
I did flatter myself with being diverted at your surprise
from so general an alteration of persons, objects, manners,
as you would have found ; but there is an end of all that
pleasing vision ! I remember when my father went out
of place, and was to return visits, which ministers are
excused from doing, he could not guess where he was,
finding himself in so many new streets and squares. This
was thirty years ago. They have been building ever since,
* LadyHenriettaGodolphin, eldest dolphin, by Henrietta, Bucliess of
daughter of the second Earl of Go- Marlborough, Walpole.
392 To tie Countess of Upper Ossory [l776
and one would think had imported two or three capitals.
London could put Florence into its fob-pocket ; but as they
build so slightly, if they did not rebuild, it would be just
the reverse of Eome, a vast circumference of city surround-
ing an area of ruins. As its present progress is chiefly
north, and Southwark marches south, the metropolis
promises to be as broad as long. Eows of houses shoot
out every way like a polypus ; and, so great is the rage
of building everywhere, that, if I stay here a fortnight,
without going to town, I look about to see if no new house
is built since I went last. America and France must tell
us how long this exuberance of opulence is to last ! The
East Indies, I believe, will not contribute to it much longer.
Babylon and Memphis and Eome probably, stared at their
own downfall. Empires did not use to philosophize, nor
thought much but of themselves. Such revolutions are
better known now, and we ought to expect them — ^I do
not say we do. This little island will be ridiculously proud
some ages hence of its former brave days, and swear its
capital was once as big again as Paris, or — what is to be
the name of the city that will then give laws to Europe —
perhaps New York or Philadelphia.
1712. To THE Countess of Uppee Ossoey.
strawberry Hill, July 17, 1776.
The enclosed is a charming copy of verses of Voltaire, at
least the first part, and sent Men son ancienne verve. What
a beautiful and pathetic line is
Eit des calamiMs dont pleurent les provinces,
and how applicable in every Paris ! and how applicable just
now!
This is not my only business. Madam; I beg you will
1776] To the Countess of Upper Ossory 393
send me a recommendatory letter to Mons. Hubert' for
Mr. Hardinge ', Lord Camden's nephew, who is going a trip
to Geneva. You may truly say he is a very clever, amiable
young man, a rising chancellor, if the amiable were rising
to be chancellors ; and if you like to exaggerate, you may
add that he will taste and understand Mons. Hubert,
neither of which I believe, no more than if he was the
present chancellor ; and yet he has taken to me, who am as
unlike anything he has seen at the Temple, or on the circuit,
as Mons. Hubert, with much less talents. No matter ; pray
oblige me.
1 dined yesterday with Princess Amelie, with the Lords
and Ladies Holdernesse, Spencer, Weymouth, the Lords
Hertford and Ashburnham, the Ladies Anne Howard, Mary
Coke, and Margaret Compton, Mrs. Howe, and Mr. Morrice.
We had the finest fruit in the world, I mean in a world
where there is fifty times more rain than sun, very little
wine, and three long pools at commerce ; you may guess
if Lord Weymouth was well diverted. Lord and Lady
Carmarthen were to have been there, but the Duchess of
Newcastle has had a stroke of apoplexy, and lies senseless.
As I came home, two footpads, just at the entrance of my
own Twickenham, stepped up to my footman on horseback,
damned him and bid him stop. Luckily it was not David,
but the young feUow, who rode up to the coachman and bid
him drive on ; and so we shall not make a paragraph in the
Letter 1712. — ^ Jean Huber (d. Senior Justice of the oovmties of
about 1790), a native of Geneva. He Brecon, Glamorgan, and Badnor,
had artistic tastes, and was par- 1787-1816. Hardinge was known to
tionlarly clever in cutting out like- Horace Walpole as early as 1770,
nesses with scissors. when their correspondence (first
2 George Hardinge (1743-1816), published in Nichols' Literary Aneo
son of Nicholas Hardinge, Clerk of dotes and Illustrations of Literature)
the House of Commons, by Jane, began. After Hardinge's marriage
daughter of Sir John Pratt, and in 1777 he went to live at Twioken-
sister of Lord Camden; Solicitor- ham, in a small house called Bag-
General to the Queen, 1782; Attor- man's Castle.
ney-General to the Queen, 1794 ;
394 To the Eev. William Cole [i776
newspapers. I expected to hear a pistol calling after us, but
the lad saw nothing but a large stick, which one of them
held up at him. I shall not send him to America after
Lord Winchelsea for his spirit '.
1713. To THE Eev. "William Cole.
You are so good to me, my dear Sir, that I am quite
ashamed. I must not send back your charming present,
but wish you would give me leave to pay for it, and I shall
have the same obligation to you, and still more. It is
beautiful in form and colours, and pleases me excessively.
In the meantime, I have, in a great hurry, for I came home
but at noon to meet Mr. Essex, chosen out a few prints for
you, such as I think you will like, and beg you to accept
them : they enter into no one of my sets.
I am heartily grieved at your account of yourself, and
know no comfort but submission. I was absent to see
General Conway, who is far from well — we must take our
lot as it falls ! Joy and sorrow is mixed till the scene closes.
I am out of spirits, and shall not mend yours ; Mr. Essex is
just setting out, and I write in great haste, but am, as I have
long been.
Most truly yours.
Strawberry Hill, July 23, 1776. H. W,
1714, To THE Eev. "William Cole.
strawberry Hill, July 24, 1776.
I WROTE to you yesterday, dear Sir, not only in great
haste, but in great confusion, and did not say half I ought
to have done for the pretty vase you sent me, and for your
constant obliging attention to me. All I can say is, that
gratitude attempted, even in my haste and concern, to put
3 Lord Winchilsea was a volunteer with the King's army in America.
1776] To the Rev. William Cole 395
in its word : and I did not mean to pay you (which I hope
you will really allow me to do), but to express my sensibility
of your kindness.
The fact was, that to avoid disappointing Mr. Essex, when
I had dragged him hither from Cambridge, I had returned
hither precipitately, and yet late, from Park Place, whither
I went the day before to see General Conway, who has had
a little attack of the paralytic kind. You, who can remember
how very long and dearly I have loved so near a relation
and particular friend, and who are full of nothing but gentle
and friendly sensations, can judge how shocked I was to find
him more changed than I expected. I suffered so much in
constraining and commanding myself, that I was not sorry,
as the house was full of relations, to have the plea of
Mr. Essex, to get away, and come to sigh here by myself.
It is, perhaps, to vent my concern that I write now.
Mr. Conway is in no manner of danger, is better, his head
nor speech are affected, and the physicians, who barely allow
the attack to be of the paralytic nature, are clear it is local
in the muscles of the face. Still has it operated such a
revolution in my mind, as no time, at my age, can efface. It
has at once damped every pursuit which my spirits had even
now prevented me from being weaned from, I mean of virtu.
It is like a mortal distemper in myself, for can amusements
amuse, if there is but a glimpse, a vision, of outhving one's
friends ? I have had dreams, in which I thought I wished
for fame — it was not certainly posthumous fame at any
distance; I feel, I feel it was confined to the memory of
those I love. It seems to me impossible for a man who has
no friends to do anything for fame — and to me the first
position in friendship is, to intend one's friends should
survive one — but it is not reasonable to oppress you, who
are suffering gout, with my melancholy ideas. Let me
know as you mend. What I have said will tell you, what
396 To the Countess of Upper Ossory [i776
I hope so many years have told you, that I am very constant
and sincere to friends of above forty years.
I doubt Mr. Essex perceived that my mind was greatly
bewildered. He gave me a direction to Mr. Penticross^
who, I recollect, Mr. Gray, not you, told me was turned
a Methodist teacher. He was a Blue-coat boy, and came
hither then to some of my servants, having at that age
a poetic turn. As he has reverted to it, I hope the
enthusiasm will take a more agreeable plie. I have not
heard of him for many years, and thought he was settled
somewhere near Cambridge : I find it is at WalUngford.
I wonder those madmen and knaves do not begin to wear
out, as their folly is no longer new, and as knavery can turn
its hand to any trade, according to the humour of the age,
which in countries like this is seldom constant.
Yours most faithfully,
H. W.
1715. To THE Countess op Uppee Ossoey.
strawberry Hill, Sunday night, Aug. 4, 1776.
I SHALL not go to Park Place till the day after to-morrow,
having allowed this interval in hopes of finding a greater
amendment. I am glad to find everybody thinks I was too
much alarmed. The King said he heard it was a very slight
attack, but that I was extremely shocked. I am not at all
ashamed of being thought too sensible about my friends.
I do not wonder Mr. C. is so gay. I suppose this fine
season has raised his spirits. They say it has done Lord G.
Germaine great good.
I am still less surprised to hear Lord said Mr. Conway
could not open his eye mthout help.
I have seen the man that saw that wondrous sight,
Lkttbe 1714. — 1 A clergyman and sohoolmaster.
1776] To the Countess of Upper Ossory 397
and should not be surprised if he said he had seen a comet
drop down hail.
The charade is much better than what I guessed ; it is the
word Italien. Though you do not understand Latin, Madam,
you know that ita is Latin, and lien French, — but perhaps
you don't understand French neither.
Pray tell our Lord that I found last night, in Dr. King's *
Works, that Archbishop Laud or Sir John Kobinson, who
I think was our Lord's grandfather, left lOOZ. to whoever
would translate Laud's book against Fisher' into Latin.
I hope the Prelate's self-love was the donor, and not the
martial gentleman in the parlour. There is a great deal
of the petty history of Queen Anne's reign in that
Dr. King's Works, and yet it requires my perseverance
to read three volumes of small print, in which is so much
trash. The man had some sense, a great deal more reading,
and some humour, but the latter is very vulgar, and pertly
vulgar, the worst sort ; and oftener fails than succeeds.
Then it is the humour of a bigot, who always laughs when
he is ill-humoured, and who thinks he must be comical, if
the Bible is on his side, for what really makes a bigot laugh
is, that he flatters himself his adversary wUl be damned.
King was besides a jester on the side of Sacheverel and
against liberty, in an age when our ancestors had too much
sense to be joked into slavery. I am not surprised that this
new edition of his works is published now: his humour,
though stale, has a better chance of success than even when
it was fresh. His biographer says he was sullen, morose,
peevish, said many ill-natured things, was drunken, religious,
and strictly virtuous, a complete character of a High Church
Letter 1715. — ' William KiDg, He disputed on the Catholic faith
LL.D. (1685-1763), Principal of St, with Laud in the presence of
Mary Hall, Oxford, 1719-63. He James I. Laud and I'isher after-
was at the head of the Jacohite wards wrote pamphlets referring to
party in Oxford. this conference.
2 JohnFisher(1579-1641),aJesmt.
398 To Sir Horace Mann [l776
saint! To prevent your dipping into his verses, I will
advertise you that he was an execrable poet, and at the end
of his first volume recommends a republication of fifty
thousand verses still more wretched than his own ; at the
same time advising a translation of our poets into Latin, to
give foreigners an idea of our poetry! I beg your Ladyship's
pardon for saying so much on a trumpery author, but I have
no news, and he was new to me.
1716. To SiE HoEACE Mann.
strawberry Hill, Aug. 11, 1776.
I HAVE so little to tell you, though, perhaps, at the eve
of so much, that I shall, I think, only begin this letter to
show you the constancy of my attention, but not send it till
it is fuller.
You have seen by the public newspapers that General
Carleton has driven the provincials out of all Canada. It
is well he fights better than he writes ! General Conway
has constantly said that he would do great service. The
provincials revenge themselves on our ships, took nine
Jamaica-men at once, and have just taken two transports
with troops ; besides half or three quarters starving our
West India Islands. General Howe has left Halifax since
the beginning of June, on an expedition. Near a fortnight
ago, he was heard of off New York, and great anxiety was
afloat to know farther. Yesterday came letters that he had
landed on an island' near, without molestation, but learnt
that the opposite coast was covered with an hundred
cannon, behind which lay a strong army entrenched up
to their eyes. This does not diminish the anxiety for the
event. His brother, the peer, had not joined him ; not
that there are appearances promising negotiation. The
Letter 1716. — ' Staten Island.
1776] To Sir Horace Mann 399
Congress has declared all the provinces independent', has
condemned the Mayor of New York to be hanged for corre-
sponding with their enemies, and have seized Franklin,
not the famous doctor, but one of the King's governors.
I hope this savage kind of war will not proceed ; but they
seem to be very determined, and that makes the prospect
very melancholy.
1 have been much alarmed lately about General Conway,
who, by a sudden cold, had something of a paralytic stroke
in the face; but as it did not affect his speech or health, and
is almost disappeared, I am much easier. I do not know
whether I have not mentioned it to you already : I cannot
always remember from one post to another what I have
said. He is uneasy himself, with reason, about his daughter.
Her husband ' and his two brothers have contracted a debt
— one can scarcely expect to be believed out of England —
of seventy thousand pounds ! Who but must think himself
happy to marry a daughter with only ten thousand pounds
to a young man with five thousand pounds a year rent-
charge in present, and twenty-two thousand a year settled ?
And yet this daughter at present is ruined ! Her behaviour
is such as her father's would be ; she does not only not
complain, but desires her very own jewels may be sold.
The young men of this age seem to have made a law
amongst themselves for declaring their fathers super-
annuated at fifty, and then dispose of the estates, as if
already their own.
How culpable to society was Lord Holland * for setting
an example of paying such enormous, such gigantic debts !
Can you believe that Lord Foley's two sons ° have borrowed
2 The Declaration of Independence < Henry Fox, first Lord Holland,
was signed on July 4, 1776. Walpole.
s John Damer, eldest son of Joseph, ' Thomas and Edward, sons of
Lord Milton, married Anne, only the first Lord Foley of that line,
child of General Henry Seymour Walpole.
Conway. Walpole.
400 To Sir Horace Mann [l776
money so extravagantly, that the interest they have con-
tracted to pay amounts to eighteen thousand pounds
a year ? I write the sum at length, lest you should think
I have mistaken, and set down two or three figures too
much. The legislature sits quiet, and says it cannot put
a stop to such outrageous doings ; but thus is it punished
for winking at the plunder of the Indies, which cannot
sufl&ce. Our Jews and usurers contrive to lounge at home,
and commit as much rapine as Lord Clive !
Wednesday, 14th.
I must desire you to send me a letter to Mr. William
Suckling, our deputy, desiring him to execute the office of
collector for you, and pay our moneys to my brother and
me. This is not essential, but I find it will be a satisfaction
to him, and I know you will be so good as to do it. Now
I will bid you good night, but will reserve the rest of my
paper a few days, rather than leave you in this suspense.
If nothing comes soon, I shall hope some negotiation is on
foot that will stop the effusion of blood — but indeed such
various frenzies have taken hold of the nation's brains, that
I fear nothing but calamities will bring us to our senses.
As I doubt whether we shall hear any considerable news
soon, I have determined to send away this letter, lest it
should be superannuated. The Gaeette has already got the
start of it, and told you all it pretended to tell. In truth,
my letters are little more than companions of the news-
papers, or at best evidences for their veracity, which they
want. It is incredible how both sides lie about the American
war. Even that laconic personage the Gazette has been
known to fib, and always takes care not to tell a syllable
of bad news. I live here alone, and never hear any but
with all the world. Whenever this war shall end, I believe
it will be very new ; for except two or three great facts,
^. 0LA.
1776] To the Countess of Upper Ossory 401
I question whether we, the public, know anything of the
matter.
1717. To THE Countess op Uppee Ossoey.
strawberry Hill, Aug. 16, 1776.
I CANNOT answer your Ladyship's questions from any
Parisian authority, for my dear old woman, who does not
trouble her head about the court, seldom tells me anything
but what relates to her own circle. I have heard here of
the favour of my Lady Lucan, and having the same curiosity
as your Ladyship, have inquired, but the answer is not come.
I know stUl less of Lord Clermont's * successor : it certainly
is not Lord DUlon's son '\ who is marrying Miss Phipps, for
love, at Brussels. He has a cousin at Paris, a beau Dillon ',
and a fine dancer. If Lady Lucan has made such a conquest
by her painting, I think I, who was her master, ought at
least to be a minister. — But I doubt my fate will resemble
me to some prince, I forget whom, whose tomb they show
at Westminster Abbey, who was son, brother, uncle, and
father of kings, but never was king himself*.
No, Madam, I shall not go to Brighthelmstone, but
another journey that will at least vary the scene a little,
for Lady Di. I have asked my nephew's leave to show
them Houghton, and to Mr. Conway and Lady Ailesbury.
Lettek 1717. — 1 William Henry Comte d'Artoia. He was a favourite
Portesoue (1722-1806), first Baron of Marie Antoinette.
Clermont, created Earl of Clermont * The personage who appears to
in 1777. answer this description most nearly
2 Hon. Charles DiUon, afterwards is Edmund Plantagenet (1246-1296),
DUlon-Lee (1745-1813), eldest son of surnamed ' Orouohback,' Earl of
eleventh Viscount Dillon, whom he Lancaster, who is buried on the
succeeded in 1782 ; m. (1776) Hon. north side of the Sanctuary in West-
Henrietta Maria Phipps, daughter minster Abbey, nearest the high
of first Baron Mulgrave. altar. He was son of Henry III,
3 Colonel !^douard Dillon (1751- brother of Edward I, uncle of
1839), son of a banker in Bordeaux ; Edward II, and great-great-grand-
Colonel of the regiment of Provence, father of Henry IV.
and Gentlemaa-iu-Waiting to the
WALPOLE. IX D d
402 To the Countess of Upper Ossory [l776
I do not speak positively, you perceive. I must have
permission first.
You may be sure I enter very much, Madam, into your
sensations about Miss Vernon's trip to Winterslow Lodge,
and approve your consenting to it. One cannot hinder
others from doing what one wishes they did not, when
they are not in the wrong for doing it ; and yet I
know one still wishes it did not happen. You can meet
with nobody that feels this more than I do ; but one
must conquer oneself on those occasions. It is difficult,
I own ; but as nobody feels exactly what one feels oneself
upon all situations, it is not reasonable to prescribe rules to
them from one's own disposition : and yet, though I preach,
I admire your fortitude in not having wanted to be preached
to ; nor is the preacher always so equitable himself. I am
sorry you are losing Mr. James. I know what a loss it is to
miss a person whose opinions agree with one's own. I will
not preach on this chapter too, for I am sure my practice
would not be conformable to my doctrine.
Mr. Conway is visibly much mended ; and though my
impatience is not satisfied yet, in all probability no traces
of his disorder will remain. His countenance is quite come
to itself ; and his disposition was so little disturbed, that in
one of the rainy days I passed there, he employed all the
morning in cleaning his own boat. He is as indifferent
about the accident, and talks of it with as much unconcern
as if he had only been out on a skirmishing party.
Friday, 16th.
I began this yesterday, and was interrupted. To-day
I have heard the shocking news of Mr. Damer's death, who
shot himself yesterday, at three o'clock in the morning,
at a tavern in Covent Garden. My first alarm was for
Mr. Conway ; not knowing what effect such a horrid
1776] To the Countess of Upper Ossory 403
surprise -would have on him, scarce recovered from an
attack himself; happily it proves his nerves were not
affected, for I have had a very calm letter from him on the
occasion. They have sent for me to town, and I shall go
to-morrow morning. Mr. Charles Fox, with infinite good
nature, met Mrs. Damer coming to town, and stopped her
to prepare her for the dismal event. It is almost impossible
to refrain from bursting out into commonplace reflections
on this occasion ; but can the walls of Almack's help
moralizing, when 5,000Z. a year in present and 22,000?. in
reversion are not sufficient for happiness, and cannot check
a pistol !
For the first time in my life I think I do not wish Lord
Ossory a son, or Lady Anne greatly married ! What a
distracted nation ! I do not wonder Dr. Battie died worth
100,000Z. Will anybody be worth a shilling but mad
doctors ? I could write volumes ; but recollect that you
are not alone as I am, given up to melancholy ideas, with
the rain beating on the skylight, and gusts of wind. On
other nights, if I heard a noise, I should think it was some
desperate gamester breaking open my house ; now, every
flap of a door is a pistol. I have often said, this world is
a comedy to those that think, a tragedy to those that feel ;
but when I thought so first, I was more disposed to smile
than to feel ; and besides, England was not arrived at its
present pitch of frenzy. I begin to doubt whether I have
not lived in a system of errors. All my ideas are turned
topsy-turvy. One must go to some other country and ask
whether one has a just notion of anything. To me, every-
body round me seems lunatic ; yet I think they were sober
and wise folks from whom I received all my notions, on
money, politics, and what not. Well ! I will wait for the
echo — I know no better oracle. Good night, Madam. You
excuse me in any mood, and therefore I will make no
D d 2
404 To the Eev. William Cole [l776
apology for this incoherent rhapsody. My thoughts, with
those I love, always flow according to the cast of the hour.
A good deal of sensibility and very shattered nerves expose
one to strong impressions. Yet when the sages of this
world affect a tenderness they do not know, may not a little
real feeling be pardoned? It seems, Mentor Duke of
Montagu had made a vow of ever wearing weepers for his
vixen turtle, and it required a jury of matrons and divines
to persuade him he would not go to the devil and his wife,
if he appeared in scarlet and gold on the Prince's birthday ;
but he is returned to close mourning like Hamlet, and every
Eosencrantz and Guildenstern is edified both ways.
1718. To THE Rev. William Cole.
strawberry Hill, Aug. 19, 1776.
I HAVE time but to write you a line, and it is as usual to
beg your help in a sort of literary difficulty. I have re-
ceived a letter dated Catherine Hall from Ken. Prescot^,
whom I doubt I have forgotten; for he begins, 'Dear Sir,'
and I protest I cannot recollect him, though I ought. He
says he wants to send me a few classical discourses, and
he speaks with respect of my father ; and, by his trembling
hand, seems an old man. All these are reasons for treating
him with great regard, and being afraid of hurting him,
I have written a short and very civil answer, directed to
the Bev. Dr. Prescot God knows whether he is a clergy-
man or a doctor — and perhaps I may have betrayed my
forgetfulness ; but I thought it was best to err on the over-
civil side. Tell me something about him : I dread his
Discourses. Is he the strange man that a few years ago
sent me a volume of an uncommon form, and of more
uncommon matter ? I suspect so.
Letter 1718. — ' Master of Catherine Hall, Cambridge.
1776] To Sir Horace Mann 405
You shall certainly have two or three of my prints by
Mr. Essex when he returns hither and hence, and any-
thing else you will command. I am just now in great
concern for the terrible death of General Conway's son-
in-law, Mr. Damer, of which, perhaps, you in your solitude
have not heard. You are happy who take no part but
in the past world, for the mortui non mordent, nor do any
of the extravagant and distressing things that perhaps they
did in their lives. I hope the gout, that persecutes even
in a hermitage, has left you.
Yours most sincerely,
H. W.
1719. To SiE Hoe ACE Mann.
strawberry Hill, Aug. 20, 1776.
You will have concluded, on the sight of another letter
so soon, that you are to hear of a battle in America. Not
so, though you are going to hear a dismal story, and,
which is worse, relative to friends of mine. Indeed the
newspapers will have told it to you already, and you have
known the principal actor, Mr. Damer, Lord Milton's
eldest son, and who married General Conway's only
daughter. I think I told you in my last that he and his
two brothers most unexpectedly notified to their father
that they owed above seventy thousand pounds. The
proud lord, for once in the right, refused to pay the debt,
or see them. The two eldest were to retire to France,
and Mrs. Damer was to accompany them, without a mur-
mur, and with the approbation, though to the great grief,
of Mr. Conway and Lady Ailesbury. She was, luckily,
gone to take her leave of them, and to return to town last
Friday morning. On Thursday, Mr. Damer supped at the
Bedford Arms in Covent Garden, with four common
women, a blind fiddler, and no other man. At three
406 To Sir Horace Mann [i776
in the morning he dismissed his seraglio, bidding each
receive her guinea at the bar, and ordering Orpheus to
come up again in half an hour. When he returned, he
found a dead silence, and smelt gunpowder. He called,
the master of the house came up, and found Mr. Darner
sitting in his chair, dead, with a pistol by him, and another
in his pocket ! The ball had not gone through his head,
nor made any report. On the table lay a scrap of paper
with these words, ' The people of the house are not to
blame for what has happened, which was my own act.'
This was the sole tribute he paid to justice and decency !
What a catastrophe for a man at thirtj'-two, heir to two-
and-twenty thousand a year ! We are persuaded lunacy,
not distress, was the sole cause of his fate. He has often,
and even at supper that night, hinted at such an exploit —
the very reason why one should not expect it. His brothers
have gamed — he never did. He was grave, cool, reasonable,
and reserved ; but passed his life as he died, with troops of
women and the blind fiddler — an odd companion in such
scenes ! One good springs out of this evil, the leeches,
the Jews and extortioners, will lose very considerably.
Lord Milton, whom anything can petrify and nothing
soften, will not only not see his remaining sons, but
wreaks his fury on Mrs. Damar, though she deserves only
pity, and shows no resentment. He insists on selling
her jewels, which are magnificent, for discharge of just
debts. This is all the hurt he can do her ; she must have
her jointure of 2,500i. a year.
We have no end of these examples of extravagance.
There is a Lord Coleraine and his two brothers ', who have
equalled the Damers, and almost the Foxes and Foleys.
Their father, who died about two years ago, was apprised
of their proceedings, and left all he could, 1,600Z. a year,
Letter 1719. — ' Hon. William and Hon. George Hanger.
1776] To Sir Horace Mann 407
to his wife '^. The unnatural wretches have wheedled
her out of all, and Lady Windsor '' has taken her into her
house for subsistence ! Very lately they told her she must
come to town on business : — it was to show her to the Jews,
and convince them hers was a good life — unless she is
starved. You must not suppose that such actions are
disapproved, for the second brother is going minister' to
Brussels, that he may not go to jail, whither he ought to
go. I am weary of relating such histories. You shall
hear no more of them, for my letters would be the annals
of Bedlam. Adieu !
22nd.
Since I wrote my letter, an account is come of the total
failure of the expedition under General Clinton, Lord Corn-
wallis, and Sii- Peter Parker", against Charleston". The
troops landed on Long Island', and then could not act.
The fleet attacked a fort, were repulsed, lost a man-of-war,
with a captain, lieutenant, and two hundred men, and
Sir Peter Parker, they say, is wounded in six places. They
were, besides, forced to burn a store-ship. The provincials
are confessed to have behaved remarkably weU. This
success win not discourage the rest. In what a chaos
are we embarked !
2 Elizabeth, daughter and heiress pointed to command a squadron
of Eiohsird Bond, of Cowbery, Here- which was to act on the North
fordshire, and widow of first Baron American coast.
Coleraine; d. 1780. * The attack was made on June 28,
* Alice CXavering, sister and heiress 1776. Thestateof the tide prevented
of Sir James Clavering, fourth both troops and ships from acting to
Baronet, of Axwell, Durham, and advantage against the batteries on
widow of second Viscount Windsor ; Sullivan's Island. Three frigates
d. Nov. 24, 1776. ran aground, and one was set on fire
* He did not go. Walpole. and abandoned.
5 Admiral SirPeter Parker, Knight ' A few miles to the north-east of
(1721-1811), created a Baronet in Sullivan's Island.
1782. He had recently been ap-
408 To the Countess of Upper Ossory [l776
1720. To THE Countess op Upper Ossoey.
strawberry Hill, Aug. 22, 1776.
I PERCEIVE at last, Madam, that it is very foolish to live
out of the world, and a good deal alone ; one contracts the
strongest prejudices! one fancies one grows old, because
one is near threescore ; that it is absurd to lay plans for
ten or twenty years hence ; that one shall not govern the
next generation as one did their grandfathers and grand-
mothers ; in short, one imagines one is not immortal.
Nay, though there never was an age in which youth thought
it so right to anticipate all its prerogatives, and declare
its veterans Strulbrugs a little before our time, we silly
folks in the country despair of recovering the province
of wisdom, that is, keeping young people for ever in leading
strings, while we enjoy the world and dispose of all its
blessings over our bottle.
The picture of St. George ' has opened my eyes. I will
launch into the world again, and propose to be Prime
Minister to King George V, and lay a plan for governing
longer than Cardinal Fleury, by surfeiting all the young
nobility at Eton and Westminster Schools with sugar-
plums. In the meantime if I grow deaf, like the late or
present governor', I will have Master George V taught
to talk to me upon his fingers, which will teach both him
and me to spell, for it would not be proper to have him
bawling secrets of state to me through a speaking-trumpet :
and when I come to be minister ', I will secure the attach-
ment of all the young senators by getting drunk with them
Letter 1720. — ^ Reynolds' picture Rigby.
of St. George and the Dragon, with ^ The Earl of Holdernesse and the
portraits of the fifth Duke of Bed- Duke of Montagu,
ford, his two brothers, and Miss ' An allusion to Earl Gower,
Vernon. It was painted for Richard President of the Council.
1776] To the Countess of Upper Ossory 409
every night till six in the morning ; and if I should never
be sober enough to give away places, which is the only real
business of a minister, I will marry a Scotch wife*, who
shall think of nothing else. I will do still more, and what
no minister yet could ever compass, I will prevent all
clamour, by adopting St. George's motto, — Honi soit qui
mal y pense, which, if inscribed on the picture now in
agitation, will certainly hinder anybody's smiling at it. As
one cannot entirely divest oneself of one's character.
But find the ruling passion strong in death,
I propose to conclude my career in a manner worthy of an
antiquary, as I was in the last century, and when I am
satiated with years and honours, and arrived at a comfort-
able old age, to break my neck out of a cherry-tree in
robbing an orchard, like the Countess of Desmond at an
hundred and forty ; but don't mention this last idea,
Madam, lest that roguish lad, the First Lord of the
Admiralty ", should steal the thought from me.
Thursday evening.
I scribbled the above this morning on receiving your
Ladyship's letter, and have since been at the regatta at
Richmond, which was the prettiest and foolishest sight in
the world, as all regattas are. The scene, which lay
between the Duke of Montagu's and Lady Cowper's, is so
beautiful, that, with its shores covered with multitudes,
and the river with boats, in the finest of all evenings,
nothing could be more delightful. The King and Queen
were on a stage on their own terrace : there were but few
* Lord Gower's third wife was every minister for every little office
Lady Susan Stewart, daughter of that fell in hia department.' {Last
the Earl of Galloway. ' Alter her Journals, vol. i p. 233.)
marriage her life was a series of jobs ' Lord Sandwich,
and solicitations, and she teased
410 To the Countess of Upper Ossory [i776
barges and streamers, except one of the Duke of New-
castle's, and nobody more in masquerade than they are
every day ; but enough of a puppet-show.
The echo is a very discreet personage, and never in a
hurry. Ministers are not invulnerable, as you thought.
The expedition against Charleston has failed. A man-of-
war is lost, with a captain, a lieutenant, and two hundred
men, and, as Lord Cranley " told me. Sir Peter Parker himself
is wounded in six places. They were forced besides to burn
a store-ship ; and what is ten times worse, the cowardly rebels
behaved remarkably well. It is called a very ill-advised
attempt ; though ten days ago what bragging of having got
a fifty-gun ship over the bar of Charleston, which had
always been thought impossible I
I cannot tell whether I shall go to Houghton, tUl I know
what Mr. Conway determines. The Beauclerks certainly
do not go. Mr. Crawfurd sent me a messenger last Friday
to teU me the horrid fate of Mr. Darner, and to say he
should not see me unless I was in town on Sunday. As
I went on the unhappy occasion, I sent to him — and he
was out of town. I should not have gone on purpose,
as I know him a little too well.
Adieu ! Madam ; say nothing, and wait for the echo stUl
— to the end of the year. What she says then vsdll be
important.
P.S. You maybe perfectly easy about Lord Chewton',
for the land forces could not act, though they disembarked
on Long Island, — a very ingenious exploit !
* George Onslow, created on May third Earl Waldegrave, whom he
20, 1776, Baron Cranley of Imber- succeeded in 1784. He entered the
court, in Surrey. army in 1768, and was at this time
' George Waldegrave (1751-1789), serving with his regiment in America.
Viscount Chewtou, eldest son of
1776] To the Bev. William Cole 411
1721. To THE Eev. William Cole.
strawberry Hill, Sept. 9, 1776.
May I trouble you, dear Sir, when you see our friend
Mr. Essex, to tell him that the tower is covered in, and
that whenever he has nothing to do, after this week, I shall
be very glad to see him here, if he will only send me a line
two or three days beforehand. I have carried this little
tower higher than the round one, and it has an exceedingly
pretty effect, breaking the long line of the^house pictur-
esquely, and looking very ancient, thus \ I wish this, or
anything else could tempt you hither.
I must correct a little error in the spelling of a name in
the pedigree you was so kind as to make out for me last
year ; the Derehaughs were not of Colton, but Coulston Hall.
This I discovered oddly this morning. On opening a patch-
box that belonged to my mother, and which I have not opened
for many years, I found an extremely small silver collar
or ring, about this size ", but broad and flat. I remember
it was in an old satin bag of coins that my mother found
in old Houghton when she first married. I call it a collar
from the breadth ; for it would not be large enough for
a fairy's lap-dog. It was probably made for an infant's
little finger, and must have been for a ring, not a collar,
for I believe, though she was an heiress, young ladies did
not elope so early in those days. I never knew how it
came into the family, but now it is plain, for the inscription
on the outside is, of Coulston Hall, Suff., and it is a con-
firmation of your pedigree. I have tied it to a piece of
paper, with a long inscription ; and as it is so small, it will
not be melted down for the weight; and if not lost from
Letter 1721. — ' The original letter contains a drawing of the tower.
2 Drawing in the original letter.
412 To the Bev. William Mason [i776
its diminutive person, may remain in the family a long
while, and be preserved when some gamester may spend
every other bit of silver he has in the world — at least, if
one would make heirlooms now, one must take care that
they have no value in them '- I fancy Mrs. Prescott is
returned, for I have heard no more of the Doctor *.
I wish you may be able to tell me your gout is gone.
Yours ever,
H. W.
P.S. I was turning over Edmondson this evening, and
observed an odd concurrence of circumstances in the present
Lord Carmarthen. By his mother he is the representative
of the great Duke of Marlborough, and of Lord Treasurer
Godolphin ; by his father, of the Lord Treasurer Duke of
Leeds ; and by his grandmother ^ is descended from the
Lord Treasurer Oxford. Few men are so well ancestored
in so short a compass of time.
1722. To THE Rev. "William Mason.
strawberry Hill, Sept. 17, 1776.
I WAS exceedingly rejoiced the other day to hear by
a letter from Lord Strafford that you are alive, which I
doubted. I had some thoughts of looking into the Annual
Register to see if your preferments were given away ; but
as I find you have only been in a lethargy, and that now
I shall not disturb your nap, I venture to put you in mind
of a person of whom you have not dreamt these four or
' The ring described above, to- (see letter to Cole of Aug. 19, 1776)
gether with the inacription in Wal- during his wife's absence,
pole's handwriting, is now in pos- <> Lady Elizabeth Harley (d. 171S),
session of Earl Waldegrave at Chew- daughter of first Earl of Oxford ; m.
ton Priory. (1712) Peregrine Osborne, Marquis
* Cole had informed Walpole that of Carmarthen, afterwards third
Dr. Presoot was mentally deranged, Duke of Leeds,
and had written to Horace Walpole
1776] To the Bev. William Mason 413
five months. This has not been my case, though I have
given you no more signs of life. I have been going to
write to you fifty times, and only waited for that small
peculiar of a letter, something to say. I hope you have
had no other reason for silence. My want is not yet
removed, but though a good excuse for a letter's being
short, is not above half a reason for not writing at all.
Swinny used to tell a story of two old companions, who
sitting together one evening till it was quite dark, without
speaking, one called to t'other, 'Tom, Tom.' 'Well,' said
his friend, 'what do you say?' 'Oh,' said t'other, 'are
you there?' 'Ay,' said the friend. 'Why then don't you
say humph ? ' said the first. If I had been in Parliament,
and could have franked 'humph,' I really should have
written it before now, though General Howe, who, like his
family, never wastes a monosyllable, does not think such
little amities necessary. Perhaps he reflects that even that
symptom of life would not be communicated to the public,
who, it seems, have no business to know anything that
happens out of their own island. Master Froissart says,
' By the famous wrytyng of auncient auctours all thynges
ben knowen in one place or other ^,' which is a great
comfort, and the present age seems to be satisfied with
what their posterity will know.
I have lately met with a famous auncient auctour, who
did not think that everybody ought to know everjrthing.
He is a classic, Sir, with whom you ought to be acquainted ;
his very name is expressive of his vocation and science ;
he was called Sir Hugh Plat^, and has written a tractate
on gardening, called the Garden of Eden, a very proper
title, for though he has planted a tree of knowledge, he
Lkttek 1722. — 1 This sentence ' Plat was knighted by James I,
occurs in the first chapter of Lord and died about 1611.
Berners' translation.
414 To Sir Horace Mann [i776
forbids it to be tasted, having concealed his principal secret
in a figurative description in imitation of Baptista Porta ' in
his Natural Magic, so that you might as soon understand
a book of Alchemy, as Sir Hugh's treatise, at least his
secret. This deep volume is not quite to your purpose, not
being an essay on landscape-gardens, but rules to improve
fruit and flowers, which being still more the fashionable
rage at present than laying out ground, I think you would
do well, Mr. Mason, to add a book on that subject. One
very great secret Sir Hugh has deigned to disclose ; it is
a receipt for making a peach-tree bring forth pomegranates :
the process is very simple, and consists in nothing but
watering (or strictly speaking milking) the peach-tree with
goat's milk for three days together.
To be sure you want to know a great deal about me
myself, though you forgot you did. My whole history consists
in having built a new tower, which is a vast deal higher,
but very little larger in diameter than an extinguisher ;
however, it fully answers the founder's intention, which
is to hold Lady Di's drawings. Have you done as much
in your way, or any way? I could send you a paltry
scurrilous letter against Shakespeare, by Voltaire, but it is
not worth sending ; if it did, you don't deserve it at my
hands, so adieu !
1723. To Sib Hoeace Mann.
strawberry Hill, Sept. 20, 1776.
You almost confess by your last that you have a little
suspected me of having relaxed my veteran punctuality.
I doubt your suspicions will have been augmented, for how
can you conceive that at so critical a moment, and with so
much reason to expect events, six whole weeks will have
' Giovanni Battista Porta (d. 161B), a Neapolitan scientific writer.
1776] To Sir Horace Mann 415
intervened to-morrow since the letters that brought an
account of General Howe being landed on Staten Island
in the face of New York ? The disgraceful miscarriage of
Charleston has come since— but not a syllable from General
Howe — not even that his brother has joined him ; nor is it
known what is become of Lord Howe. The public are
impatient, you may be sure: in the ministers it is more
than impatience. Yet those no-events are all I could have
sent you. The despair from hearing nothing does amount
to the importance of an article ; and when I have told you
that, I have said all I know.
Sir William Hamilton is arrived, and I expect he will
call on me here in a day or two. I don't know whether he
passed through Florence.
You ask, what is become of the Duchess of Kingston?
I have just heard of her, having met Lady Harriet Vernon \
who is returned from Paris, and saw her there at the
Colisee^, with a hat and feathers like Henri Quatre. She
has given orders for a palace to be taken for her in Paris.
At Calais she has a guard at her door, having demanded it,
on pretence that her enemies aimed at her life. She
obtained it, and has detained it to this moment. Her
foolish vanity, you see, will never leave her. I think your
Lord Cowper is not much wiser. I should not wonder at
his retaining the mob ', if Florence were a borough town.
It would be a sort of poetic justice ■*, if he should send his
son" to England, and the boy should refuse to return to
Letter 1723. — "^ Youngest sister lie went to travel, "would not return
of WiUiam Wentworth, Earl of to England, "but settled at Florence,
Strafford, and Lady of the Bed- and thougli entreated in the most
* chamber to Princess Amelia. WaU earnest manner, would not visit his
pole. father before the latter's death.
2 The French Eanelagh. WalpoU. Walpole.
. ' To celebrate the birth of his son ' George Augustus Clavering-
Lord Cowper caused quantities of Cowper (1776-1799), Viscount Ford-
bread to be distributed to the poor wich ; succeeded his father as fifth
of two of the parishes of Florence. Earl Cowper in 1789.
< Lord Cowper, from the moment
416 To the Countess of Upper Ossory [l776
him. I am sorry other climates cannot repair the eccentri-
cities our own climate occasions.
I am inclined to think you will hear good news of Lady
Lucy, as she holds out so long. I heartily wish you may.
I shall reserve the rest of my paper, as my letter cannot
begin its journey till the 24th, for any news that may
happen to arrive in the interim. When I appear remiss,
you may be certain I have nothing to tell you. Being so
totally idle, it would be unpardonable to be lazy too, when
you depend on my correspondence. When it has been so
constant above thirty years, it shall not disgrace itself in its
old age.
22nd.
The ministers have heard by a ship that met another
ship at sea, that Lord Howe has joined his brother, and
that they were preparing to make the attempt on New
York. This may be so, and is not improbable ; but such
roundabout intelligence may not be true neither.
I have received another letter from you to-day of the 7th
with the enclosed for Mr. Suckling, which will do very
well, and certainly satisfy him.
Adieu ! till there is something to tell you.
1724. To THE Countess of Uppee Ossoey.
strawberry Hill, Sept. 22, 1776.
I AM much obliged to Lord Ossory, Madam, and certainly
do not mean to steal a visit to Ampthill in his absence.
I shall not be able to see it this month, for I am waiting
for Mr. Essex to finish my new tower, which, as my farmer
said, is still older than any of the rest.
Pray don't think I am tired of your stories. Nothing
is so pleasant as the occurrences of society in a letter. I am
always regretting in my correspondence with Madame du
1776] To the Countess of Upper Ossory 417
Deffand and Sir Horace Mann, that I must not make use
of them, as the one has never lived in England, and the
other not these fifty years, and so any private stories would
want notes as much as Petronius. Sir Horace and I have
no acquaintance in common but the Kings and Queens of
Europe.
I don't know that the Governor was literally writing to
Lord Eockingham ; but not having succeeded in his last
tergiversation, and being a little disappointed too by the
fall of my Lord of Chester ', he has been all this summer
a violent anti-courtier, till finding that Lord George^ was
discontent with the other ministers, and that Lady George
wanted a loo party, he and his chameleon have attached
themselves there, and swear hy George, like my Lord
Hertford.
It is charming, I own, to have dancing spirits, like the
Duchess of Queensberry, in the 16th lustrum; but I don't
think if I had, that I should have courage to make use of
them. I am strangely afraid of being too young of my
age. If everybody was an hundred, and I was only ninety,
I would play at marbles, if I liked it, because my seniors
would say, ' That poor young creature ! ' but the sound of
' That old fool ! ' is too dreadful : and to live upon the
memory of what one has been, when nobody remembers
it but oneself, is stiU worse. It is odd, that grey hairs,
and dim eyes, and aches should not be sufficient, but that
many want a monitor like Salad in's to cry ' Kemember you
grow old.'
Do you know. Madam, that the ministers firmly believe,
from the captain of a ship that met another ship at sea,
that Lord Howe has joined his brother, and they were
Lettub 1724. — 1 Markham, Bishop of Chester, recently dismissed from
the post of Preceptor to the Prince of Wales,
' Lord George Germain.
WALPOLE. IX £ Q
418 To tJie Bev. William Mason [l776
preparing to storm New York. The circumstances are no
doubt very probable ; but should you believe that the silent
Howes communicated their intentions to a passenger that
was walking by at sea ? The General has been profoundly
taciturn for six weeks, and I don't think that, in that family,
two negative reserves make an affirmative chattering.
Guessing I don't love, because I seldom guess right, but
I have something that is called a presentiment, that tells me
we shall hear of something called a negotiation. I could
give something like reasons for my opinion, but as I always
give up anything rather than dispute, it would be incon-
venient to my acquiescent system to furnish myself with
arguments, which serve no purpose but to make one
obstinate to one's opinion. When one believes without
consideration, there is no difficulty in changing sentiments.
Sir William Hamilton called on me yesterday for a
moment; he is going to Warwick Castle for a fortnight,
and I hope will return charmed with his new niece '.
1725. To THE Rev. William Mason.
Arlington Street, Oct. 8, 1776.
I ANSWER your letter incontinently, because I am charmed
with your idea of the cenotaph for Gray, and would not have
it wait a moment for my approbation. I do not know what
my lines ' were, for I gave them to you, or have burnt or
lost them, but I am sure yours are ten times better, as any-
thing must naturally be when you and I write on the same
subject. I prefer Westminster Abbey to Stoke, or Pembroke
Chapel; not because due to Gray, whose genius does not
want any such distinction, but as due to Westminster
3 Sir William Hamilton was uncle Letter 1725. — i The lines sent by
of the Earl of Warwick, who had Horace Walpole to Mason shortly
recently married Miss Henrietta after Gray's death. See letter to
Vernon, half-sister of Lord Ossoiy. Mason of Sept. 9, 1771.
1776] To the Bev. William Mason 419
Abbey, which would miss him, and to humble the French,
who have never had a Homer or a Pindar, nor probably will
have, since Voltaire could make nothing more like an epic
poem than the Henriade, and Boileau and Eousseau have
succeeded so little in odes, that the French still think that
ballad-wright Quinault " their best lyric poet ; which shows
how much they understand lyric poetry ! Voltaire has
lately written a letter against Shakespeare (occasioned by
the new paltry translation, which still has discovered his
miraculous powers), and it is as downright Billingsgate as
an apple-woman would utter if you overturned her wheel-
barrow. Poor old wretch ! how envy disgraces the brightest
talents ! How Gray adored Shakespeare ! Partridge ', the
almanac-maker, perhaps, was jealous of Sir Isaac Newton.
Dr. Goldsmith told me he himself envied Shakespeare, but
Goldsmith was an idiot, with once or twice a fit of parts.
It hurts one when a real genius like Voltaire can feel more
spite than admiration, though I am persuaded that his
rancour is grounded on his conscious inferiority. I wish
you would lash this old scorpion a little, and teach him awe
of English poets.
I can tell you nothing more than you see in the common
newspapers. Impatience is open-mouthed and open-eared
for accounts from New York, on which the attack was to
be made on the 26th of August. Success there is more
necessary to keep up credit than likely to do more. Should
it fail, there is an end of America for England ; and if it
succeeds, it is at most ground for another campaign. But
we choose not to see till we feel, though they who have done
the mischief do not disguise their apprehensions. The
colonies have an agent * openly at Versailles, and their ships
are as openly received into their ports. But I had rather
' Philippe Quinault (1635-1688). ' John Partridge (1644-1715).
* Silas Deane, of Connecticut.
B e 2
420 To the Countess of Upper Ossory [irre
talk of Garactacus ° ; I agree that he will not suffer by not
being sputtered by Barry, who has lost all his teeth.
Covent Garden is rather above Drury Lane in actors, though
both sets are exceedingly bad, so bad — that I almost wish
Garactacus was not to appear. Very seldom do I go to the
play, for there is no bearing such strollers. I saw Lear the
last time Garrick played it, and as I told him I was more
shocked at the rest of the company than pleased with him
— which I believe was not just what he desired ; but to give
a greater brilliancy to his own setting, he had selected the
very worst performers of his troop ; just as Voltaire would
wish there were no better poets than Thomson and Akenside.
However, as Garactacus has already been read, I do not doubt
butit wUl succeed. It would be a horrible injury to let him
be first announced by such unhallowed mouths. In truth,
the present taste is in general so vile, that I don't know
whether it is not necessary to blunt real merit before it can
be applauded.
I have not time to say more : I can say nothing about
law, but that I always avoid it if I can ; that and everything
else wants reformation, and I believe we shall have it from
that only reformer. Adversity. I wish I were with you and
the good Palsgrave, and I always wish you was with me.
Adieu !
Yours ever,
H. W.
1726. To THE Countess of Uppeb Ossoet.
strawberry Hill, Oct. 9, 1776.
Somebody, I know not whom, taking me for your Lady-
ship's postman instead of your gazetteer, I confess, without
^ Mason's play of that name, produced at Covent Garden Theatre on
Dec. 1, 1776.
1776] To the Countess of Upper Ossory 421
degrading me, has sent me the enclosed letter for you.
As the postmark is Geneve, I should have supposed it came
from Monsieur Hubert ; but as he can never have heard of
me but from your Ladyship, he cannot be such an oaf as to
think a letter would find me sooner than you, and, besides,
he must know your direction. In short, it is like Anthony
Henley's^ direction to the Duke of Somerset over against
the trunk-shop at Charing Cross, except that in the present
case the trunk-shop is very angry at the impertinence to the
Duke of Somerset.
I am quite alone and wishing myself at Ampthill. I did
not think Mr. Essex could have come mal-d-propos, but it is
so difficult to get him, and he has built me a tower, so
exactly of the fourteenth century, that I did not dare to put
him off, lest it should not be ready for furnishing next
spring. It is one of those tall thin Flemish towers, that are
crowned with a roof like an extinguisher, and puts one in
mind of that at Thornbury, called Buckingham's Plotting
Closet. I hope no Cardinal Wolsey will sit on my skirts for
the likeness.
I have lately been lent two delicious large volumes of
Queen Elizabeth's jewels, plate, and the New Year's gifts to
her : every page of one of them is signed by Lord Burleigh.
She had more gold and silver plate than Montezuma, and
even of her father's plunder of cathedrals and convents,
particularly rich mitres set with jewels, and I don't doubt
but she sometimes wore them as head of the Church, and
fancied herseK like Pope Joan. I have extracted some of
the articles that are most curious, and here they are.
A looking-glass with the steel of agate. (This shows they
had no quicksilvered glass, and she must have looked
delightfully fierce in a piece of polished steel.) But this was
of agate ; and the glass was of beryl, and had her mother,
Lettbe 1726. — 1 Antony Henley (d. 1711), wit and politician.
422 To the Countess of Ujaper Ossory [i776
Anne Boleyn's arms. What a treasure this would be at
Strawberry !
A porringer of white purselyn (porcelain) garnished with
gold, and a lion at top. (The first porcelain I have read of
was in Queen Mary's reign.)
One case of leather painted and gilt with the Duke of
Northumberland's (Dudley's) arms, having therein one
broad knife, one lesser, two forks, and seven small knives,
the hafts of all being silver, enamelled with his arms and
word (motto).
One standish of mother-of-pearl, garnished with silver
gUt, with three boxes for ink, dust (sand), and counters of
silver gilt. These were, I suppose, to calculate with, as
I think they still do in the Exchequer.
A gilt font with a cover, having at top a gilt cross chased
with antique faces ; also the hand (handle) and foot, and
with roses and pomegranates (for Henry the Eighth and
Catherine of Arragon ; this should be at Ampthill, against
Lord Gowran's christening) upon the brim, and thereon
written, Maria Regina, Veritas Temporis filia ''.
A ship for frankincense of mother-of-pearl, the foot,
garnishment, and cover of silver gilt, having the griffon
holding the pillar, and Cardinal Wolse^s arms, and a little
spoon of silver gilt in it. You see. Madam, by this, and the
Duke of Northumberland's knives, that it was charming to
be a king or queen in those days, and that all was fish that
came to the crown's net. In short, I am exceedingly angry
at Messrs. Hampden and Pym, that were the cause of all
these pretty baubles being melted down.
One standing cup of Flanders making, garnished with
* This font was probably the pro- last in aUnsion to a passage in the
perty of Queen Mary, who used the preamble of the Act asserting her
rose and pomegranate badge of her legitimacy, (See Annais of England,
mother, Catherine of Aragon, and vol. ii, p. 225.)
the motto Veritas temjporis filia ; the
1776] To the Countess of IPpper Ossory 423
pearls, enamelled in divers places, containing in the foot
thereof seven trenchers of silver parcel gilt standing upon
the sides (I cannot make out the iohnography of this brave
cup), seven forks set with three pearls apiece ; at the end
seven knives in a case of the like work, and one pair of
snippers (snuffers), the hafts of the knives of wood, and the
ends silver gilt, with a pearl at the end of each ; and in the
top four goblets gilt, and three cups of assay (for the taster)
gilt, twelve spoons gilt, and the salts garnished with false
pearls, and prettily enamelled ; and a candlestick having
two sockets joined together ; and in the top a clock.
One bed-pan, having the Queen's arms enamelled at the
end. Here was luxury, and magnificence and taste ! I have
a great mind to print these dear MSS., and another of Anne
of Denmark's furniture at Somerset House, which was lent
to me lately too. This majesty's joy was in canopies : she
had more than there are chairs now in St. James's ; and
now and then she gave a bed to her lady of the sweet
coffers. She had sweet bags enough to hold all the perfumes
of Arabia, and a suit of arras with the history of Charles
Brandon ', and embroidered carpets to lay over cupboards,
and fine caparisons of purple velvet, richly embroidered all
over with silver, made for his Highness's horse to tilt with
in Spain at the time of his being there, which his Queen
Henrietta Maria, being a good housewife, ordered to be con-
verted into a bed, as she ordered another bed to be translated,
says the inventory, into the French fashion. Queen Anne
had, besides, a cradle-mantle of crimson velvet with a broad
gold lace bordered with ermines, and lined with carnation
taffety ; and pillows laced with gold and silver ; but, alas !
she had only six pair of fine Holland sheets, and thirty pair
of ordinary Holland. There remained also three folio pages
full of the robes of Henry VIII, and a diaper table-cloth,
' Charles Brandon, Duke of Suffolk.
424 To Sir Horace Mann [l776
whose borders were of gold needlework, and one dozen of
napkins suitable ; and a smock, very richly wrought with
gold, silver, and silk. Pray, Madam, do you think this was
her Majesty's wedding shift ? I will mention nothing more,
but a cabinet of ebony, inlaid with silver, white ebony
(probably ivory) and gilt with flowers and beasts ; and in
the drawers a comb-case furnished, two gilt cups in the
shape of turkeys (as I have three castors like owls), a dresser
for the tongue (I suppose a scraper), and sundry pencils and
knitting-needles : and another cabinet of cloth of silver, lined
with orange-tawny velvet (probably a casket).
Well ! considering this solid magnificence, must not all
good Christians pray, that when his Majesty has some time
or other conquered America, he will extend his arms to
Peru and Mexico, that the crown may eat off gold trenchers
set with pearls, and that the Queen may have smocks as
rough with embroidery as hands can make them, and every-
thing for the bed suitable ? So prays her and your Lady-
ship's poor beadsman.
\727. To SiK Horace Mann.
strawberry Hill, Oct. 13, 1776.
I NEED not tell you what a splendid Gazette has already
told ^. As I was here before the account arrived, and heard
it but imperfectly, I could not write so soon as the first post
would set out with the news. The provincials have certainly
not behaved up to the haughtiness with which they rejected
all overtures of peace. It is said they were outwitted, deceived
by feints, and drawn into ambuscade. That does no honour
to their generals. Great consequences are expected from
this victory. I am too ignorant of war, sieges, and America,
Letter 1727. — 'General Howe Aug. 27, 1776, in the battle of Brook-
liaii defeated the Americans on lyn or Long Island.
1776] To Sir Horace Mann 425
to pretend to judge ; and really have heard so much from both
sides that has not proved true, and at the same time such
pains are taken to keep people in the dark, that I have laid
it down to myself to believe nothing but vrhat is universally
allowed. It is your duty to credit gazettes, and you cannot
err while you stick to your Bible. The red ribbon is to
be sent to General Howe, who seems to have acted very
sensibly.
I have received your letter of the 18th, and think you are
very prudent in not accepting the proposal of ceding your
estate. I have an exceedingly good opinion of your nephew,
but he has been indiscreet, may be so again, and surely the
tone of the age does not tempt one to trust to the sensibility
of young people. How at your distance could you sue, if
the annuity was in arrear? And pray how do you know
that the lawyer who has suggested this scheme is an honest
man ? The profession is excellent at evading laws and
settlements ; I never heard they were so subtle at procuring
redress. Do not say I gave you this advice — I have no
reason to disoblige your nephew, but as your friend I must
approve your resolution of not consenting to the project.
I never saw your Duke with the barbarous name — Ostro-
gothia " ; nor am longer curious of sights. For the first
summer of my life, I have stayed quietly at home ; at least
not been thirty miles. It has struck fifty-nine with me :
which is an hour for thinking of 'the great journey,'
though not for talking of it ; in which there always seems
a great deal of affectation or unwillingness. Nay, it is
silly, too ; for how few can one talk to about one's death,
that care about it ? if they do, it is unkind. My being is so
isole and insignificant, that I shall go out, like a lamp in an
illumination, that cannot be missed.
If the person by whom I sent you a letter lately should
2 Brother of the King of Svreden. Walpole,
426 To the Countess of Upper Ossory [i776
return through Florence, I wish you would give him the
packet that was to have come by your nephew — if not, by
any safe hand— I have had none a great while. As Lady
Lucy still lives, I should rather hope well from the journey,
and heartily wish she may recover.
1728. To THE Countess op Uppeb Ossoey.
strawberry Hill, Oct. 13, 1776.
Just after I had sent away my last packet with Monsieur
Hubert's letter, I heard of General Howe's success, but con-
cluding your Ladyship would hear it from London, I did
not write another letter, besides that I knew no particulars.
I am not quite of Mr. Fitzpatrick's opinion that the event is
of no consequence to the ministers. I believe a small check
would have made them doubt a little whether they should
meet the Parliament, — at least for this last month I never
saw people more desponding ; and this victory has certainly
raised their spirits in proportion ; at least it has in all I have
seen, and I have not seen a soul but courtiers since the news
came. Indeed I have not been out of my own house, for on
Tuesday last as I came out of town my foot slipped as I got
into my chaise, and I hit my knee, which brought the gout
thither, and though it is almost gone, it kept me from dining
at Lady Blandford's to-day, and has hindered me from
scrambling into my new tower with Mr. Essex, which was
a vexation ; but as I am got into that very grave year, my
sixtieth, it is not becoming to be moved at anything; and
so, as philosophy is always the thing one has when one
wants it, I pretended to be very indifferent about going
into the tower, and only scolded my footman for something
that would not have made me peevish at any other time,
which I think proves I am a true philosopher.
If you do not understand Monsieur Hubert's letter,
1776] To the Countess 0/ Upper Ossory 427
Madam, how is it possible I should? You seem to have
described me to him as an agreeable mixture of the continent
Scipio and a member of the Hell-fire Club ; nay, and to
have bestowed two as uncommon ladies on me who were
content without being in love with, and yet could pass
a whole night in hearing very indelicate conversation.
Dames more extraordinary certainly than Scipio himself!
I am unfortunately of an age not to attempt to clear myself
of the character of the chaste Eoman, but I beg you will
undeceive Monsieur Hubert about my licentious conversa-
tion, which I hope is not one of my faults. When you are
in train of defending me, Madam, I beg you wiU also
undeceive him about the shining merits he supposes in me.
I hate to have anybody think better of me than I deserve ;
and I must say your Ladyship's partiality to me, at least
your favour, is apt to rate me above the common run of
men, which I know I am not.
I never had anything like a solid understanding on one
side, or wit on the other. As a proof that I know my own
level, you have always heard me speak with enthusiasm
of Charles Townshend, George Selwyn, Charles Fox, Mr.
Fitzpatrick, Mr. Gray, Mr. Gibbon, and of everybody of
singular capacity or parts, which is seldom the case but of
those who are conscious of having no pretensions ; but this
is growing too grave apropos to Mr. Hubert's wild letter.
If I had wit, I should have laughed at it with some wit.
I am exceedingly inclined to come to AmpthiU about
the 24th. I have no exceptions to the party before as
individuals, but as too numerous; besides I promised to
go again to Park Place, and if I can walk tolerably by
that time, think of going thither about the 18th or 19th
for a couple of days, but I will neither embarrass them nor
you with my gout, and will be sure it is gone before I frisk
anywhere.
428 To the Countess of Upper Ossory [i776
Oct. 15.
I received your postscript, and add one to mine. About
the American news, I say what I always have thought and
said, that whatever way this war ends, it will be fatal to
this country. The liberty of America made it flourish to
the prodigious height it did. If governed by an army,
instead of inviting settlers and trade, it will be deserted
and be a burthen to us, as Peru and Mexico, with all their
mines, have been to Spain. The war has already drained
us of men ; if the army could be brought back, how many,
between climate and other chances, will return? Our
ships are entering on their third winter in those seas, and
we have flung away in those three years what should have
lessened our debt, and prepared against a war with France.
The plea for the last Peace was our inability of proceeding
with the war. Are we in the condition we were in 1763?
How soon we shall have a French war, I know not ; it is
much talked of already at Paris ; but come when it will,
then will be the moment of judging of this war with the
colonies. I believe France vrill then recover Canada, with
interest ; and for the East Indies, with our fleets, supported
by our trade, obtained, I have always looked on them as
a vision, which made us drunk with riches, which will be
a burthen to maintain, and which will vanish like a scene
in the Arabian Tales. I have not less gloomy ideas of your
Ireland, where, I conclude, the first storm will burst.
I could carry my prophecy much further ; but the present
exultation speaks it all — nor does it surprise me. It is
natural, I doubt, for the human heart to pass from de-
spondency to intoxication ; nor can one wonder. I believe
it is the truest philosophy to think only of the present
moment. Chance is a more potent sovereign than fore-
sight, which has no ways and means but probability to work
1776] To the Hon. Henry Seymour Conway 429
with. I honour Chance, and beg her to contradict all my
prophecies.
I heard the story of the Prince of Conti* here, never
from France : indeed, I heard two stories, one of the late
Prince, another of the present, and know not which your
Ladyship means. Neither sounded to me in the least
probable. I still less know who the lady is, that is only
indulged in feeding her horse with cherries— a luxury she
cannot enjoy above one month in the twelve. As this is
October, when I hear it, it puts me in mind of the late
Duke of Cleveland, who though past twenty when his father
was dying in December, was overjoyed, and said, ' Now my
mother must stay in my father's room, she cannot watch
me, and I will go into the garden and get birds'-nests.'
Mr. Conway has certainly marks of his disorder still,
though not considerable. I hope to find him still more
mended than he was.
1729. To THE Hon. Heney Seymoue Conway.
Thursday, 31.
Thank you for your letter. I send this by the coach.
You will have found a new scene * — not an unexpected one
by you and me, though I do not pretend I thought it so
near. I rather imagined France would have instigated
or winked at Spain's beginning with us. Here is a solution
of the Americans declaring themselves independent '- Oh !
the folly, the madness, the guUt of having plunged us into
this abyss ! Were we and a few more endued with any
uncommon penetration ? — No : they who did not see as far
Letter 1728. — 1 Louis Pranpois of the Paxliament in the year 1776.
Joseph de Bourbon, known during Wdlpole.
the lifetime of his father (whom he ' Probably an allusion to the
had recently succeeded) as the Comte willingness of France to help the
de la Marche. Americans.
Letter 1729. — ^ On the opening
430 To the Hon. Henry Seymour Conway [l776
ivould not. I am impatient to hear the complexion of to-day.
I suppose it will, on the part of administration, have been
a wretched farce of fear, daubed over with airs of bullying.
You, I do not doubt, have acted like yourself, feeling for
our situation, above insulting, and unprovoked but at the
criminality that has brought us to this pass. Pursue your
own path, nor lean to the court that may be paid to you
on either side, as I am sure you will not regard their being
displeased that you do not go as far as their interested
views may wish.
If the court should receive any more of what they call
good news, I think the war with France will be unavoid-
able. It was the victory at Long Island, and the frantic
presumption it occasioned, that has ripened Prance's mea-
sures ; and now we are to awe them by pressing ; an act
that speaks our impotence! — which Prance did not want
to learn !
I would have come to town, but I had declared so
much I would not, that I thought it would look as
if I came to enjoy the distress of the ministers ; but I
do not enjoy the distress of my country. I think we
are undone — I have always thought so ; whether we
enslaved America, or lost it totally : so we that were
against the war could expect no good issue. If you do
return to Park Place to-morrow, you will oblige me much
by breakfasting here : you know it wastes you very little
time.
I am glad I did not know of Mrs. Damer's sore throat
till it is almost well. Pray take care and do not catch it.
Thank you for your care of me : I will not stay a great
deal here, but at present I never was better in my Ufe ;
and here I have no vexatious moments. I hate to dispute ;
I scorn to triumph myself, and it is very difl5cult to keep
my temper when others do. I own I have another reason
1776] To Sir Horace Mann 431
for my retirement, which is prudence. I have thought
of it late, but, at least, I will not run into any new expense.
It would cost me more than I care to afford to buy a house
in town, unless I do it to take some of my money out
of the stocks, for which I tremble a little. My brother
is seventy ; and if I live myself, I must not build too much
on his life ; and you know, if he faUs, I lose the most
secure part of my income. I refused from Lord Holland,
and last year from Lord North, to accept the place for my
own life ; and having never done a dirty thing, I will not
disgrace myself at fifty-nine. I should like to live as well
as I have done ; but what I wish more, is to secure what
I have already saved for those I would take care of after me.
These are the true reasons of my dropping all thought
of a better house in town, and of living so privately here.
I will not sacrifice my health to my prudence ; but my
temper is so violent, that I know the tranquillity I enjoy
here in solitude is of much more benefit to my health, than
the air of the country is detrimental to it. You see I can
be reasonable when I have time to reflect ; but philosophy
has a poor chance with me when my warmth is stirred ;
and yet I know that an angry old man out of Parliament,
and that can do nothing but be angry, is a ridiculous
animal.
1730. To Sm Hobace Mann.
Strawben^ Hill, Nov. 1, 1776.
Foe three weeks you have been expecting accounts from
New York : so have we ; and so we are still. Nothing
was come this morning ; but we seem to be at the eve
of another interlude, that will be full as serious as the chief
piece. Very few days before the Parliament was to meet,
nine or ten ships of the line were put into commission ;
and, on Tuesday, press-warrants were issued, and every
432 To Sir Horace Mann [l776
appearance spoke war. The first reports were that Spain
was going to attack Portugal ; and so it looks still : and,
they say, by the obstinacy of the latter.
I do not know how, but the general opinion is, that,
though Monsieur de Noailles ^ is just arrived, our prepara-
tions are made at least as much against France, as to
support Portugal. Every port in France countenances
these apprehensions ; and our late success at Long Island
does but make it probable that we shall not be suffered
quietly to fetch over too many victories. The agent ^ of
the colonies is openly countenanced at Versailles ; and it
is past a doubt that they are assisted and traded with.
I hear this was urged yesterday, in both Houses, by the
opposition ; and not denied. The King's Speech you will
see ; and I think it gainsays but very faintly all I tell you.
The opposition made a sort of protest against all the late
measures, in a kind of address, that they would have sub-
stituted for that prepared by the court : not expecting, to
be sure, to carry it, but as their declaration. As I am here,
I could not learn even these particulars in time to write
to you by to-night's post. Indeed, what shall pass at
present in Parliament will decide nothing. Parliament has
done what, I think, it will never be able to undo ; and it
must excuse me if I do not honour its wisdom.
What a strange event in France ! Monsieur Necker ',
a Protestant, and actually resident from Geneva, made one
of the Comptrollers of the Finances ! What says your
neighbour, Madame of Babylon*? but, poor old soul, she
dares say nothing. Marshal Turenne's ghost will die for
shame, that, with all his glory, he turned Catholic to make
his court. A little Swiss banker will be above such mean-
Lktter 1730. — ' The new Am- ' Jacques Necker (1732-1804).
bassador from France. WaXpole. * Borne. WalpoU.
' Silas Deane.
1776] To Sir Horace Mann 433
ness. No, I never disapproved your decrowning Count
Albany ° : it became you : but I certainly have the utmost
contempt for the court of Eome, that denied him a title,
of which his family had forfeited all the advantages for their
cause. I am glad they did ; for it shows how insignificant
both he and they are. You never did mention the demeW
with Lord Cowper ; and I could easily excuse it.
There seems to me little danger in Lady O.'s eruption.
She has for many years had frequent red faces, and therefore
I suppose they do her good.
I still think Lady Lucy' has a good chance of living, by
holding out so long. Thank you much for your kindness to
Mr. Giles ". I shaU go to town on Sunday for a day or two,
and if I hear any further news you shall know.
Arlington Street, Nov. i.
At last the confirmation is come of New York being in
possession of General Howe', having been abandoned by the
provincials. Three thousand men sallied out of their lines,
but were repulsed by three regiments, with little loss of life
on either side, but thirteen or fourteen of the King's officers
were wounded. Three days after Howe was in the town it
was fired by some provincials, and a quarter of it burnt
before the fiames could be extinguished. Howe is now
encamped within four miles of the enemy's lines. I don't
know whether he means to attempt to force them, or
whether they mean to make their stand now, or draw him
up iuto the country. My opinion is, that if he gains any
» The Pretender. Sir Horace wished to take.
lUann had remonetrated against his ' Lady Lucy Mann,
being received at Eome as King of * A neighbour of Mr. Walpole at
England; and the Pope complied. Twickenham, by whom he had
Walpole. written to Sir Horace. Walpole,
5 The Count of Albany and Lord » General Howe took possession of
Cowper quarrelled and went to law New York on Sept. 15, 1776.
over a house which each of them
WALPOLE. IX F f
434 To the Earl of Strafford [l776
great advantage, it will but the sooner bring on a war with
France, as it is natural to suppose they will not let us ever
be quiet masters of America again, nor miss the present
favourable opportunity of embarrassing us so considerably.
However, I have no great faith in reasonings on future
events, and much less on my own reasonings of that sort.
When it is so difficult to trace back events to causes, the
reverse must be much more fallible.
1731. To THE Eael of Steaffobd.
strawberry Hill, Nov. 2, 1776.
Though inclination, and consciousness that a man of my
age, who is neither in Parliament nor in business, has little
to do in the world, keep me a good deal out of it, yet I will
not, my dear Lord, encourage you in retirement ; to which,
for the interest of your friends, you have but too much
^propensity. The manners of the age cannot be agreeable to
those who have lived in something soberer times ; nor do
I think, except in France, where old people are never out of
fashion, that it is reasonable to tire those whose youth and
spirits may excuse some dissipation. Above all things, it
is my resolution never to profess retirement, lest, when
I have lost all my real teeth, the imaginary one, called
a colt's, should hurry me back and make me ridiculous.
But one never outlives all one's cotemporaries ; one may
assort with them. Few Englishmen, too, I have observed,
can bear solitude without being hurt by it. Our climate
makes us capricious, and we must rub off our roughness and
humours against one another. We have, too, an always
increasing resource, which is, that though we go not to the
young, they must come to us: younger usurpers tread on
their heels, as they did on ours, and revenge us that have
1776] To the Earl of Strafford 435
been deposed. They may retain their titles, like Queen
Christina, Sir M N , and Lord Rivers; but they'
find they have no subjects. If we could but live long
enough, we should hear Lord Carlisle, Mr. Storer, &c.,
complain of the airs and abominable hours of the youth of
the age. You see, my dear Lord, my easy philosophy can
divert itself with anything, even with visions; which
perhaps is the best way of treating the great vision itself,
life. For half one's time one should laugh with the world, ""
the other half at it — and then it is hard if we want f
amusement.
I am heartily glad, for your Lordship's and Lady Anne
Conolly's sakes, that General Howe' is safe. I sincerely
interest myself for everybody you are concerned for. I will
say no more on a subject on which I fear I am so unlucky
as to differ very much with your Lordship, having always
fundamentally disapproved our conduct with America.
Indeed, the present prospect of war with France, when
we have so much disabled ourselves, and are exposed in so
many quarters, is a topic for general lamentatiop, rather
than for canvassing of opinions, which every man must
form for himself: and I doubt the moment is advancing
when we shall be forced to think alike, at least on the
present.
I have not yet above a night at a time in town — but shall
be glad to give your Lordship and Lady Strafford a meeting
there whenever you please.
Your faithful humble servant,
Hoe. Walpole.
Lbttbe 1731. — ^ General Howe's ConoUy, and a, niece of Lord Straf-
■wife was a daughter of Lady Anne ford.
r f 2
436 To the Bev. William Mason [i776
1732. To THE Eev. "William Mason.
LETTEE DE VOLTAIRE 1 M. D'AEGENTAL^
MON CHER Ami, Fernet, 19 Juillet, 1776.
J'apprends que Monsieur de St. Julian arrive dans mon
desert avec le Kain. Si la chose est vraie, j'en suis tout
6tonne et tout joyeux ; mais il faut que je vous dise combien
je suis fache pour I'honneur du tripot centre un nonim6
Tourneur', qu'on dit Secretaire de la Librairie, et qui ne
me paroit pas le Secretaire du bon gout. Auriez-vous lu
deux volumes miserables dans lesquels il veut faire regarder
Shakespeare comme le seul module de la veritable tragedie ?
II I'appelle le Dieu du Theatre ; il sacrifie tous les Fran9ois
sans exception k son idole, comme on sacrifioit des cochona
a, Cerfes. II ne daigne pas nommer Corneille ou Racine :
ces deux grands hommes sont seulement enveloppes dans
la proscription gen6rale sans que leurs noms soient pro-
nonces. II y a d6jk deux tomes d'imprim^s de ce Shake-
speare, qu'on prendrait pour des pieces de la foire, faites
il y a deux cents ans ; ce maraud a trouve le secret de faire
engager le Roi et la Eeine et toute la famille royale h souscrire
h son ouvrage. Avez-vous lu son abominable grimoire dont
il y aura encore cinq volumes ? Avez-vous une haine assez
vigoureuse centre oet impudent imbecile? Souffrirez-vous
I'affront qu'il fait k la France ? Vous et Monsieur de Thi-
bouville ' vous etes trop doux. II n'y a pas en France assez
Letter 1732. — Hitherto printed aa Pont-de-Veyle. A copy of this letter
part of letter to Masou of Sept. 17, waa enclosed by Madame du Deffand
1776. (See Notes and, Queries, Aug. 4, in her letter to Horace Walpole of
1900.) Aug. 4, 1776.
> Charles Augustin de Ferriol 2 Pierre le Toumeur (1736-1788),
(1700-1 788), Comted'Argental, Minis- translator of many English works
tor of Parma at the court of France, into French.
and Councillor in the Parliament of 3 Henri Lambert d'Erbigny (d.
Paris. He was an intimate friend 1784), Marquis de Thibouyille, sol-
of Voltaire, and a younger brother dier and littirateur. He was ou
of Madame du Deffand's friend, friendly terms with Voltaire.
1776] To the Bev. William Mason 437
de camouflets, assez de bonnets d'anes, assez de pillorie centre
xm pareil faquin ? Le sang p6tille dans mes vieilles veines
en parlant de lui. S'il ne vous a pas mis en colore, je vous
tiens pour un homme impassible. Ce qu'il y a d'affreux
c'est que le monstre a un parti en France, et pour comble
de calamit6s, et d'horreur, c'est moi qui autrefois parlai
le premier de ce Shakespeare ; c'est moi qui le premier
montrai aux Franjois quelques perles que j'avois trouvees
dans son enorme fumier. Je ne m'attendais pas que
je servirois a fouler aux pieds les couronnes de Eacine
et de Corneille, pour en orner le front d'un histrion
barbare.
Tachez, je vous prie, d'etre aussi en colore que moi, sans
quoi je me sens capable de faire un mauvais coup. Quant
a mon ami M. le cocher Gilbert *, je souhaite qu'il aille au
carcan a bride abattue, etc., etc.
I have a mind to provoke you, and so I send you this
silly torrent of ribaldry. May the spirit of Pope that
dictated your Musseus, animate you to punish this worst of
dunces, a genius turned fool with envy ! I have a mind
to be a dunce too and alter one line of your epitaph, the
last. I think She heard should not be repeated twice ; heard
is an inharmonious word, and the elision between she and
heard adds to the cacophony. I would read, —
She heard thy Homer in her Milton's strains.
And Pindar's music from the lyre of Gray. —
Or 'thy.' It is very impertinent in me, who have no
ear and am no poet, to correct you, who are a musician,
and a poet if ever there was one ; but then, I will submit
if you do not approve my emendation.
* Probably Nicolas Joseph Laurent Gilbert {1761-1780), poet.
438 To the Bev. William Mason [l776
Having nothing new to read, I have been tumbling over
my old books, and there I found what I bad never read
nor heard mentioned, and which I think has a vast deal
more of wit than the ancients used in their writings. Mind,
I say used, for no doubt all times and all countries have
produced men of wit, and I know Julius Caesar had a
collection of Cicero's ions mots. Diogenes Laertius too has
recorded those of the philosophers, very few of which
I allow to have any wit in them. The piece I mean is
Seneca's Be Morte Claudii Caesaris. There is a good deal
of Greek in it, and I have forgotten my Greek, and some
of my Latin too, and do not understand many passages in
this satire ; but let me give you an instance of great wit ;
speaking of his death and the astrologers, who had not
foretold it rightly, he says, horam ejus nemo novit, nemo enim
ilium unquam natum putavit.
Last night I took up Pope's Letters to Mr. Digby", and
finding Lady Suffolk's name, I regretted having never
questioned her about the latter. This is a sort of pleasure
I lose every day. I came into the world long enough ago
to have informed myself from elder persons of many things
I should now like to know ; and there is much more
satisfaction in inquiring into old stories than in telling
them. Formerly I was so foolish, like most young people,
as to despise them. I don't mean by this to invite the
young to apply to me ; I am not over-fond of their company.
Recollection is more agreeable than observation at the end
of life. Will Dr. Johnson, and I know not most of the
rest by name, interest the next age like Addison, Prior,
Pope, and Congreve ? will General Gage or Sir Peter Parker
succeed to the renown of the Duke of Marlborough, even
^ Hon. Robert Digby (d. 1726), his sister in the lines beginning,
second son of fifth Baron Digby. ' Go, fair example of untainted
Pope wrote hia epitaph and that of youth.'
1776] To the Countess of Upper Ossory 439
had the last had no more merit than Macpherson will
allow him? Oh, there is another of our authors, Mac-
pherson ! when one's pen can sink to him, it is time to seal
one's letter.
1733. To THE Countess op Upper Ossoby.
Arlington Street, Nov. 13, 1776.
As next to sense and wit, I love nonsense ; and as it is
very convenient to love the last, especially if it will produce
the second, I shall certainly indulge myself, since my
quotation from a certain potion (which I do not think
the most rational performance in the world) from a certain
book gave occasion to your Ladyship to make an application
of as much wit as ever I heard in my life ; and yet so
obvious an one that it is amazing it never struck anybody
before. My Lord J. may comfort himself, for though he is
very blind, you have discovered that if he had five more
eyes, and all seven were as good as Argus's, they might
prove no preservative. I sent you, on Monday, another
piece of nonsense, and expect great returns from it, though
you never can exceed your last quotation. You guessed
very right too about Strawberry.
I have called this morning on Lady Warwick, but they
are gone out of town again. News I found none, but that
Mr. North* is to marry Miss Egerton, with 100,0002. to
begin the world with.
Yesterday, just after I arrived, I heard drums and
trumpets in Piccadilly : I looked out of the window and
saw a procession with streamers flying. At first I thought
it a pressgang, but seeing the corps so well drest, like
Hussars, in yellow with blue waistcoats and breeches, and
high caps, I concluded it was some new body of our allies,
Lettke 1733. — ' No son of Lord North married a Miss Egerton.
440 To the Countess of Upper Ossory [i776
or a regiment newly raised, and with new regimentals for
distinction. I was not totally mistaken, for the colonel is
a new ally. In short, this was a procession set forth hy
Mr. Bate ^, Lord Lyttelton's chaplain, and author of the old
Mornmg Post, and meant as an appeal to the town against
his antagonist, the new one. I did not perceive it, but the
musicians had masks ; on their caps was written Tlie
Morning Post, and they distributed hand-bills. I am sure
there were at least between thirty and forty, and this
mummery must have cost a great deal of money. Are not
we quite distracted, reprobate, absurd, beyond all people
that ever lived? The new Morning Post I am told, for
I never take in either, exceeds all the outrageous Billings-
gate that ever was heard of. What a country ! Does it
signify what happens to it ? Is there any sense, integrity,
decency, taste, left ? Are not we the most despicable nation
upon earth, in every light? A solemn and expensive
masquerade exhibited by a clergyman, in defence of daUy
scandal against women of the first rank, in the midst of
a civil war! and while the labouring poor are torn from
their families by pressgangs ! and a foreign war is hanging
over our heads ! And everybody was diverted with this !
— Do you think, Madam, that anything can save such
a sottish and stupid nation ? Does it deserve to be saved ?
you that have children will wish for miracles ; as I have
none but what Mary provides, I can almost wish we may
be scourged. I pity the unborn, who were in the entail
of happiness, but what can be said for those in present
possession ?
P.S. I return to-morrow to Strawberry.
^ Eev. Henry Bate (1745-1824), the name of Dudley in 1784, and was
editor of the Morning Post. He took created a Baronet in 1818.
1776] To Sir Horace Mann 441
1734. To SiE HoBACE Mann.
strawberry Hill, Nov. 24, 1776.
Mb. Giles has delivered me the packet of letters, for which
I thank you ; but I have been so backwards and forwards
between this place and London, that I have missed seeing
him himself. I am rejoiced to hear there are hopes of
Lady Lucy.
I cannot tell you the particulars, as I am here, and have
not yet learnt them ; but there is another victory ', a naval
one, over the provincials on the Lake Champlain. They
have lost their whole fleet, have burnt Crown Point, and
are retired to Ticonderoga, where, I think, they are besieged.
You will see the particular circumstances in the papers, as
soon as I could hear and tell them. General Howe, it is
said, finding the lines at King's Bridge too strong, is
drawing others between them and New York. Some say
he is meditating or executing a diversion ; at the same time
there is a pretty general opinion that he is negotiating
a peace.
You, perhaps, are still more inquisitive about the appear-
ance of war in Europe. If I was an ambassador myself,
I could not answer you more unsatisfactorily, which, if
I spoke in a character, would be called mysteriously or
enigmatically ; but my reason is founded, as perhaps it is
sometimes in your profession, on ignorance. The outward
and visible signs are all martial. Equipment of a fleet,
pressing of sailors, and the nomination of an admiral : so
much for Bellona. On the other hand, France says she has
no thoughts of war, and our ministers declare they believe
her. For her amusement, indeed, she makes great naval
Lettee 1734 1 On Oct. 11 and 13, 1776.
442 To Sir Horace Mann [l776
preparations, and some say, does not frown on the Americans,
nor on their Eesident, Silas Deane. Nous verrons.
If you should ask what the opposition says, — I answer,
nothing. They have abandoned Parliament, and some are
gone into the country, and some to Paris: not to confer
with Mr. Deane, but to see horse-races, — of which we have
none here !
After so much negative information, I can tell you one
event: Lord Buckingham" is made Lord Lieutenant of
Ireland. Being a little unfortunate generally in my
prophecies and conjectures, I choose to foretell that he will
be the most humble, sweet-tempered, generous, and profound
governor that ever that island was blessed with yet.
I forgot to say, that it is not Lord Bristol who commands
the fleet, but Admiral Keppel. He is in the opposition, but
they being at leisure, he was appointed.
I certainly did mean to name Lord Thomas Clinton to
you, as I was desired, though I knew it was unnecessary.
Thank you much for saying I did ; I don't know how I came
to forget it.
Arlington Street, Nov. 26.
You will see the particulars of the naval victory in the
Gazette. It is not much valued here, as it is thought Carleton
must return to Quebec for the winter. The idea of negotia-
tion gains ground — that of war declines, for we hear Grimaldi,
the Spanish minister, has resigned, and he was reckoned no
friend of ours ; but pray, never mind what I say in the
future tense, in which I have no skill at all. We know past
times very imperfectly, and how should we, when few know
even the present, and they who do, have good reasons for not
being communicative? I have lived tUl I think I know
nothing at all.
' Hitherto printed ' Bockingham.'
1776] To Sir Horace Mann 443
1735. To Sir Hoeace Mann.
strawberry Hill, Dec. 1, 1776.
Though I wrote to you but the other day, and have
nothing new to tell you, I must say a few words in answer
to yours by Mr. Hull, and to that of Nov. 16th which I have
just received.
As you are my first consideration, I cbuld but state to you
what reason and experience dictated for your personal
security. I have, however, no doubt but you wUl find
all honour and justice in your nephew, who I am sure
has sense, and as I told you before you saw him, appeared
to me to have an excellent heart. It pleased me to see that
he answered so thoroughly in your eyes to the character
I had given you of him. As he is Gal's son, I must be glad
too that you have made his mind at ease about his
daughters. Still as I have so much friendship for your
whole family, and think so well of Mr. and Mrs. Foote,
I am not at all sorry that the step you have taken was
transacted without my advice. I could never have brought
myself to have decided on a point in which one part or other
of your family would think itself wounded, as I doubt may
be the case now ; though I believe Mr. and Mrs. Foote are
too good and reasonable to do more than think. You your-
self have been originally ill-used by both your brothers James
and Edward. The former was very weak — the other had not
very good sense, with an abominable temper — but he is gone
and I will say no more.
I did tell you I received the packet from Mr. Gyles, who,
I suppose, is the person you mean by Mr. Price ; you might
easily forget the name of a man you knew so little.
I don't know who the Englishwoman is of whom you
give so ridiculous a description ; but it will suit thousands.
I distrust my age continually, and impute to it half the
444 To Sir Horace Mann [l776
contempt I feel for my countrymen and women. If I think
the other half well founded, it is by considering what must
be said hereafter of the present age. What is to impress
a great idea of us on posterity? In truth, what do our
cotemporaries of all other countries think of us ? They stare
at and condemn our politics and follies ; and if they retain
any respect for us, I doubt it is for the sense we have had.
I do know, indeed, one man who still worships us, but his
adoration is testified so very absurdly, as not to do us much
credit. It is a Monsieur de Marchais, first valet de ehambre
to the King of France. He has the Anglomanie so strong,
that he has not only read more English than French books,
but if any valuable work appears in his own language, he
waits to peruse it till it is translated into English ; and to
be sure our translations of French are admirable things !
To do the rest of the French justice, I mean such as Hke
us, they adopt only our egregious follies, and in particular
the flower of them, horse-racing ! Le Boi Pepin, a racer, is
the horse in fashion. I suppose the next shameful practice
of ours they naturalize will be personal scurrilities in the
newspapers, especially on young and handsome women, in
which we certainly are originals ! Voltaire, who first
brought us into fashion in France, is stark mad at his
own success. Out of envy to writers of his own nation,
he cried up Shakespeare ; and now is distracted at the just
encomiums bestowed on that first genius of the world in
the new translation^. He sent to the French Academy
an invective that bears all the marks of passionate dotage.
Mrs. Montagu^ happened to be present when it was read.
Suard ', one of their writers, said to her, ' Je crois, Madame,
que vous etes un peu fachSe de oe que vous venez d'en-
Lettke 1735. — ' Le Toumeur's against Voltaire. Walpole.
translations into French. 3 Jean Baptiste Antoine Suard
" Mrs. Eobinson Montagu, who (1733-1817), member of the French
wrote the Defence of Shakespeare Academy.
1776] To the Countess of Upper Ossory 445
tendre.' She replied, ' Moi, Monsieur ! point du tout ! Je
ne suis pas amie de Monsieur Voltaire.' I shall go to town
the day after to-morrow, and wUl add a postscript if I hear
any news.
Dec. 3rd.
I am come late, have seen nobody, and must send away
my letter.
1736. To THE Countess op Uppee Ossoey.
Arlington Street, Dee. 3, 1776.
I SHOULD not have waited for a regular response, Madam,
if I had not been precisely in the same predicament with
your Ladyship, reduced to write from old books to tell you
anything new. I have been three days at Strawberry, and
have not seen a creature but Sir John Hawkins's five
volumes', the two last of which, thumping as they are,
I literally did read in two days. They are old books to all
intents and purposes, very old books ; and what is new, is
like old books, too, that is, full of minute facts that delight
antiquaries : nay, if there had never been such things as
parts and taste, this work would please everybody. The
first volume is extremely worth looking at, for the curious
facsimiles of old music and old instruments, and so is the
second. The third is very heaAry ; the two last wiU amuse
you, I think, exceedingly, at least they do me.
My friend, Sir John, is a matter-of-fact man, and does
now and then stoop very low in quest of game. Then he is
so exceedingly religious and grave as to abhor mirth, except
it is priated in the old black letter, and then he calls the
most vulgar ballad pleasant and full of humour. He thinks
nothing can be sublime but an anthem, and Handel's choruses
heaven upon earth. However he writes with great modera-
Lettee 1736. — ' Hawkins' History of Music.
446 To the Countess of Upper Ossory [l776
tion, temper, and good sense, and the book is a very valuable
one. I have begged his austerity to relax in one point, for
he ranks comedy with farce and pantomime. Now I hold
a perfect comedy to be the perfection of human composition,
and believe firmly that fifty Iliads and JEneids could be
written sooner than such a character as Falstaff's. Sir John
says that Dr. Wallis discovered that they who are not
charm.ed with music want a nerve in their brain. This
would be dangerous anatomy. I should swear Sir John
wants the comic nerve ; and by parity of reason, we should
ascribe new nerves to all those who have bad taste, or are
delighted with what others think ridiculous. We should
have nerves like Eomish saints to preside over every folly ;
and Mr. Cosmo must have a nerve which I hope Dr. WaUis
would not find in 50,000 dissections. Eechin, too, had a sort
of nerve that is lost like the music of the ancients ; yet,
perhaps, the royal touch could revive it more easily than it
cures the evil.
4tli.
The quarrel between the SS. Cosmo and Damian^, they
say, is at an end. I kept back my letter in hopes of some-
thing to tell your Ladyship, but there is a universal yawn,
and the town as empty as in August. I heard only a good
story of Mrs. Boscawen', the Admiral's widow, who lives
near London, and came to town as soon as she had dined at
her country hour. She said, ' I expected to find everybody
at dinner, but instead of that, I found aU the young ladies
strolling about the streets, and not thinking of going home
to dress for dinner ; so I had set out in the evening, and yet
got to town in the morning of the same day.'
2 Patron saints of the medical ' Frances (d. 1805), daughter of
profession ; probably an allusion to Williain Evelyn Glanville, of St.
the constant disputes between the Clair, Kent ; m. (1744) Hon. Edward
brothers — William Hunter the ana- (afterwards Admiral) Boscawen.
tomist and John Hunter the surgeon.
1776] To the Bev. William Cole 447
I shall stay here for Mr. Mason's Caractacus that is to be
acted on Friday, and then return to my hill.
17B7. To Geoege Allan i.
Sir, Strawberry Hill, Dec. 9, 1776.
As I have not the satisfaction of being acquainted with
you, I must think myself very particularly obliged by your
present of the two fine and very like prints of Bishop
Trevor ", and beg you will be pleased to accept my sincere
thanks. If you ever happen to pass this way I shall be
extremely glad to show you the collection you have so
handsomely adorned, and to have an opportunity in person
of assuring you how gratefully I am, Sir,
Your most obliged
and obedient humble servant,
Hoe. Walpolb.
1738. To THE Eev. "William Cole.
strawberry Hill, Dec. 9, 1776,
I KNOW you love an episcopal print ', and, therefore, I send
you one of two, that have just been given to me. As you
have time and patience, too, I recommend you to peruse
Sir John Hawkins's new History of Music. It is true,
there are five huge volumes in quarto, and perhaps you may
not care for the expense, but surely you can borrow them
in the University, and, though you may, no more than I,
delight in the scientific part, there is so much about cathedral
service, and choirs, and other old matters, that I am sure you
Letter 1737. — NotinC.j reprinted profession an attorney,
from Nioliols' Literary Anecdotee, ^ A former Bisliop of Dnrham.
voL viii p. 509. Lettek 1738. — 1 See the previous
1 George Allan (1736-1800), topo- letter,
grapher and antiquary. He was by
448 To the Countess of Upper Ossory [l776
will be amused with a great deal, particularly the two last
volumes, and the facsimiles of old music in the first. I doubt
it is a work that will not sell rapidly, but it must have a
place in all great libraries.
Pray tell Mr. Essex his ceiling is finished, and very well
executed.
As we have not had about" two or three cold days, I hope
the winter agrees with you, and that your complaints are
gone off.
Adieu, dear Sir. Yours most sincerely,
H.W.
1739. To THE Countess op Uppee Ossoey.
Arlington Street, Dec. 17, 1776.
It is not from being made Archbishop of York' that
I write by a secretary. Madam ; but because my right hand
has lost its cunning. It has had the gout ever since Friday
night, and I am overjoyed with it, for there is no appearance
of its going any farther. I came to town on Sunday in a
panic, concluding I should be bedrid for three months, but
I went out last night, and think I shall be able in a few
days to play upon the guitar if I could play upon it at all.
1 know very little, but that for want of Parliament General
Burgoyne is at this moment making an oration from the
rostrum to the citizens of Westminster, in recommendation
of Lord Petersham '' ; and that Doctor Franklin, at seventy-
two, is arrived ' in a frigate at Nantes, and has brought in
two prizes that he took in his way. He was to be at Paris
on Saturday night. He left everything quiet in America on
the 30th of October, and I have been just told that letters
2 So in original ; read ' atiove.' Viscount Petersham ; eldest son of
Lkttee 1739. — 1 Markham, Bishop second Earl of Harrington, whom
of Chester, was appointed Archbishop he succeeded in 1779.
of York on Deo. 16, 1776. ' As Envoy to the oonrt of France.
2 Charles Stanhope (17B3-1829),
1776] To Sir Horace Mann 449
are come from Lord Howe of the 13th of November, in
which he asks for some more cables, and says he has
written by another ship that is not arrived.
I have seen the picture of St. George, and approve the
Duke of Bedford's head, and the exact likeness of Miss Vernon,
but the attitude is mean and foolish, and expresses silly
wonderment. But of all delicious is a picture of a little
girl * of the Duke of Buccleuch, who is overlaid with a long
cloak, bonnet, and muff, in the midst of the snow, and is
perishing blue and red with cold, but looks so smiling, and
so gotfd-humoured, that one longs to catch her up in one's
arms and kiss her till she is in a sweat and squalls.
My hand has not a word more to say.
1740. To SiE HoEACE Mann.
Arlington Street, Dec. 20, 1776.
I CANNOT write to you myself, my dear Sir, for I have the
gout in my right hand and wrist, and feel enough of it about
me to fear that it will make its general tour ; which by this
third year's experience, seems to have grown annual instead
of biennial : however, I am still so partial to the bootikins,
as to believe that it is they that save me from having near
80 much pain as other gouty people complain of ; and, while
I do not suffer much, there is no great hardship in an old
man's being confined to his own house. It is not, however,
to talk of myself that I send you this ; but to tell you that
I have received your letter for Lord North, and as I could
not carry it myself, I sent it to him by a friend, and do not
doubt but so just a request will be attended to.
* Lady Caroline Scott, afterwards a portrait of her mother and another
Marchioness of Qaeensberry. She child. Sir Joshua was so much
entered the room, dressed as Horace struck by her costume that he in-
Walpole describes her, while Sir sisted on painting her portrait in it.
Joshua Beynolds was engaged on
WALPOLE. IX Q S
4:50 To the Countess of Upper Ossory [l776
It looks very rauch. as if we should know soon whether
America is to be subdued or saved by a French war. We
heard on Tuesday last that Dr. Franklin himself was landed
in France — no equivocal step ; and on Wednesday came a
full explanation. General Howe had made two movements,
that threatened enclosing Washington, and cutting him off
from his magazines : a small engagement ensued, in which
the Americans were driven from a post without much loss
on either side. Washington has since retired with his whole
army to other heights, about five mUes off, seeming to intend
to protract the war, as was always thought would be their
wisest way; but, as the Americans do not behave very
heroically, and as the King's fleet will now be masters of
the coast, it is supposed that Washington must retire north-
ward, and that the Howes will make great progress in the
south, if not prevented by the rigour of the season. As
nearly as I can make out, Dr. Franklin must have sailed
a day or two after Washington's retreat ; and therefore it is
natural to conclude that he is come to tell France that she
must directly interpose and protect the Americans, or that
the Americans must submit to such terms as they can obtain.
If I am not wrong in my reasons, the question is thus
brought to a short issue, and there I leave it. I am never
fond of speculations, and not at aU so when I am not quite
well. Adieu !
1741. To THE Countess of Upper Ossoey.
Arlington Street, Dec. 23, 1776.
I KNOW, Madam, I ought to have thanked your Ladyship
immediately for your very friendly letter, but I have been
too much out of order even to dictate. Though just now
I am out of pain, I am so unwell that I conclude there is
a mass of gout moulding itself for the rest of my limbs,
1776] To the Countess of Upper Ossory 451
though hitherto it has kept closely to my right arm. I did
most assuredly intend to be at Ampthill this Christmas, and
my project was to have asked you last Tuesday when it
should be. I heartily repent that I did not make my visit
when I was able : I ought to have remembered that I must
take time by the forelock, especially considering how few
hairs are left in that lock for me.
The party you are so good as to propose to me. Madam,
would be very agreeable indeed, if it could do anything but
tantalize me ; and I am sad company for the young or
healthful. I must not think of going anywhither but with
Wolsey's speech in my mouth, ' Father Abbot, I am come to
lay my weary bones amongst you ! ' I am sure I have
nothing else to carry !
So, the Howes did not think their prodigious victory
worth writing a line about ! They little know that if they
did but send us a bantam egg we can hatch an ostrich from
it. I do not know what ardour anybody may have to confer
with Dr. Tranklin, but I do not believe the Doctor will con-
descend to be at home to an Englishman. They say Lord S.'
took infinite pains for an interview with Silas Dean ; and
when he did at last bring it about, he might as well have
obtained a personal audience from the Grand Signior without
an interpreter.
As I have no resource but in quartos in the few moments
when I can do anything, I am reading the Life of Philip II,
by a professor of St. Andrews". I sent for it to see how
a Scotchman would celebrate the barbarities of Philip,
Cardinal GranvUle, and the Duke of Alva, in the United
Provinces ; but to my utter astonishment the man does
not, as most biographers do, when they write the life of
Lettbe 1741. — ' Lord Stormont, Principal of St. Salvator's College in
Ambassador at Paris. 1777 ; d. 1781.
2 Eobert Watson, LL.D., appointed
ag2
452 To the Comtesse de Viry [i776
a Charles I, or a Eichard III, fall in love with his hero.
On the contrary, he is so just and explicit, that I believe
even Dr. Franklin would admit him to kiss his hand. But
I have read only the first volume: the author may come
about : the second tome of many a man is a contradiction
to his first. Adieu, Madam, I wish I could distribute all
the happiness I miss upon your Christmas.
1742. To THE Comtesse de Viey.
[1776.]
Lady Weymouth^ m'a dit, Madame, que vousmereprochiez
de ne vous avoir pas envoye la Vie de Mr. Gray ^ comme je
vous I'avais promis. J'avoue h ma honte que vous avez
raison, et que vous me rendriez justice si vous me grondiez
sans piti6. Cependant comme il n'y a si mauvaise cause
qui puisse se d6fendre, il me semble que si j'avois un peu
d'eloquence, je d^sarmerois non seulement votre colfere, mais
je craindrois de vous voir comme Niob6, convertie en pierre
a force de pleurer. En un mot, la goutte m'a mis h la torture
depuis quatre mois ; or, je ne sais comment cela se fait, mais
les douleurs excessives ne me rappellent jamais rien d'agr^-
able. Comment s'attendre done que les angoisses, I'apothi-
caire Graham, les flanelles, et une chaise longue pussent
rappeler a ma m6moire I'esprit, la vivacity, la bonne humeur
et la gaiet6 ? Bien loin de cela, Madame, je vous proteste
que quand Lady Weymouth prononfa votre nom, je me
r^veillai comme sortant d'un r§ve. II m'est arriv6 comme
Letter 1742. — Not in C. ; now • Lady Weymouth was a daughter
first printed from MS. copy, anno- of the Duke of Portland, and Lady
tated by Walpole, in possession of of the Bedchamber to Queen Char-
Mr. W. E. Parker- Jervis. The letter lotte. Walpole.
is unknown except in the transla- 2 2Tie Life of Mr, Gray^ by Mr.
tion, which was made (probably for Mason. Miss Speed was one of the
Madame du Deffand's benefit) by the heroines of Mr. Gray's Lcmg Story.
Kev. Louis Dutens, author of Sou- Walpole.
venirs tVun Voyageur qui se repose.
1776] To the Comtesse de Viry 453
au sultan dea Mille et Une Nuits, qui ayant plonge sa t6te
dans une cuve d'eau, s'imagine avoir pass6 vingt ans dans
la pauvret6 et dans la misfere, et quand il sortit sa tete
hors de I'eau, se trouva au milieu de sa cour, et aussi sultan
que jamais. Je me ressouviens h, present qu'au mois d'Aout
et de Septembre dernier, j'ai vu Madame de Viry ' feter toute
la France, repandant la gaiet6 au milieu des c6r6monies,
mettant la foule a son aise, et paraissant elle-mSme aussi
gaie, aussi amusante et amus6e que si (au lieu d'avoir
imaging des projets de pompe et de plaisirs pour tout
Versailles et Paris) il y avoit eu des legions de fees et de
graces occupees a I'amuser*. Vous voyez, Madame, par la
verity de ce portrait que j'ai certainement recouvre mes
sens et ma m^moire, qu'il falloit que j'eusse perdus quand
je vous oubliai. A I'avenir je craindrois plus que jamais la
goutte, n'ayant pas su jusqu'a present qu'elle attaquoit ma
tete.
Lady Temple", Lord and Lady Edgcumbe et LordNuneham
qui m'ont console dansmonbequillage*, et en ont ete temoins,
m'ont cache avec soin cette facheuse partie de ma situation.
Mais je suis d6sole de cette d6couverte, et h moins qu'au lieu
' Misa Speed was brought up by their estate on the King of Sardinia's
the Lady Viscountess Cobham, who discovering a secret correspondence
left her above forty thousand pounds. between the Count and a clerk in
She married Le Baron de Perrier, the Secretary's of&ce, the true history
only son of the Comte de Virri, Em- of which is not known. Walpole.
bassador to England from Sardinia, ^ These were particular friends of
whom he succeeded in the titles of Miss Speed before her leaving Eng-
Virri, and was himself Embassador land. Anna Chamber, Countess
in Spain and France. Madame de Temple, was niece by marriage of
Virri had a great deal of wit. TFoZ- Lady Cobham. George, Lord Edg-
pole. cumbe, was the third Baron and
* Mr. Walpole was in Paris in first Viscount of that family; his
1775, when Madame, eldest sister of wife was daughter and heiress of
Louis XVI, was married to the Dr. Gilbert, Archbishop of York.
Prince of Piemont. Monsr. and George Simon, Lord Nuneham, was
Madame de Virri made great enter- the second Earl of Harcourt. Wal-
tainments on that occasion, and all pole.
that is said here of her address is ^ I do not recollect what the word
strictly true. They were soon after was in the original, Walpole.
disgraced, recedled, and banished to
454 To the Comtesse de Viry [i776
de me blamer vous ne me disiez que yous avez pitie de moi,
je suis menace d'une rechute. Mais je me flatte que Mr. Gray
fera ma paix ; ses lettres vous mettront ou plutot vous entre-
tiendront tellement en bonne humeur que vous oublierez
mon oubli et me croirez encore, Madame,
Votre, etc'
' This letter was certainly written fand did not anderstand a word of
in English. I do not know hy whom English, Walpole.
it was translated. Madame du Def'
END OP VOL. IX
OXFORD
PRINTED AT THE OLABENDON PBESS
BY HORACE HART, M.A.
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